About Four Magicians
by CoolKidConan
Summary: "The real magic is in taking four strong solo acts and making them work together." Series of one-shots about our dear Horsemen and their lives together. Includes AUs, mostly Danley, but also includes other characters. Give it a try!
1. Beginnings

Hello hello! So I recently saw Now You See Me and simply fell in love with the movie. It quite possibly may be one of my favorite movies ever. Needless to say, I also fell in love with Danley or Denley, as in Daniel and Henley. And, as a result of that, I was overwhelmed by feels and decided to write this. It's slightly AU, because they meet in a different way, and, well, you'll understand once you read it! It might end up being a series of one shots, if i'm inspired to write more about the Horsemen.

Hope you enjoy it! Reviews are super welcome, they help me become a much better writer and make me feel happy, and I'd much appreciate it if when you favorite you review. Anyways, without further ado,

happy reading!

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**Beginnings**

Meetings are not his forte—he doesn't specially like the idea of having to meet new people. It's not people he despises, specifically. It's having to introduce himself again and again that he finds infuriating and nerve-rattling. He notices his words come out quicker than usual –and that's a statement, because he speaks at an average of four words per second—and he gets flustered, nervous, panicking about what to say. He doesn't think there's much he can say that can get people interested. He likes beginnings, he just doesn't like having to be the one writing them.

He remembers them though, all the meetings he's ever had. He remembers how he met his aunt and uncle from Florida for the first time when he was five, and how he met his best friend from High School. He remembers, quite clearly as well, how he felt during all of them –shifty, uncomfortable, out of place. They've stuck in his mind for twenty-one years, and every time he finds himself involuntarily looking back on them, he can't help but cringe at how awkward he was and tries to forget it. He likes to think now he's over that stage.

She hates clichés just about as much as she hates endings. She didn't think that was even remotely possible, but as it turns out, it is. She hates clichés with a fervent passion. She hates clichés fiercely. She hates them, hates them, hates them. And she hates endings. She can't wrap her mind around the fact that everything eventually ends. She wishes she could exist somehow forever; live for as long as her heart desires to be alive. She thinks her heart yearns for ages and ages of being alive, of tasting the sun on her lips, the stars on her close eyelids, the rush of cold wind from a butterfly's wings. She realizes she's thinking in clichés and she drops the thinking, period.

Their beginning, their meeting, is out of sheer luck if you ask him and mere coincidence if you ask her. It shouldn't have happened. Everything about them pointed towards this occurrence never occurring; he wasn't going to let it begin, she wasn't going to let it end. But, as all casualties in clichéd stories, it happened.

She never walks around East Evans Street, but there's apparently a very good coffee shop around there, and she absolutely has to go check it out, being a fan of coffee like she is. She doesn't usually trust Jack too much, but he's insisted she go because he's sure he'll find just what she's looking for. She thinks he's talking about coffee. He doesn't really deny it.

In his case, it's more like his friend Merritt dragged him to it. He has to pick up something for him, he said, because he got so wasted last night he can barely even remember his name. He makes a mental note to remind himself he has to stop Merritt whenever he decides it's okay to go out every single night. He also makes a mental note to remind himself to never do a favor for him ever again. He knows it's no use –he makes a mental note of it every single time he asks for a favor, and every single time he does it for him—but he doesn't give up just yet. Merritt hasn't specified what it is he has to pick up, though. All he said is that he'll know what it is when he sees it. He doesn't really understand, but goes anyways.

So you see, it is indeed a strange meeting. One could even classify it as _magic_, if one were to believe in such things. They bump into each other at the exact second, on that exact street, on that exact sidewalk in front of that exact building and she almost spills her coffee on top of his dark blue sweater when they do. Instead, the liquid splashes onto the sidewalk, leaving her cup empty.

"I am so sorry!" she exclaims, trying to regain the balance of her paper coffee cup. He steps back, still a bit shaken about the encounter, and tries to fix his eyes on the person he almost shoved to the ground.

Her hair is long and fiery red, and he notices it goes well with the color of her lipstick. Her eyes are slightly decorated with blue eye shadow and eyeliner, and he likes the way the red of her hair and lips contrasts with the blue around her eyes. She's short, even with the black stilettos she's wearing, but her slender figure takes his breath away for a second or two. He knows he's staring, so he fights to bring his eyes back to hers.

She's inspecting him in the same way. He's a bit taller than her, and skinny, but she likes the way his blue sweater wraps around his torso. She notices he's carrying a messenger bag on his right shoulder. His hair is somewhat long and straight, but it fights ever so slightly to curl back. She wonders if he straightens it on purpose. His hair falls on top of his eyes and she notes for the first time that their color is something she can't quite describe. She doesn't think there's a name for them on the color scheme. She usually likes her guys clean-shaven, but there's something about his scruffy look that makes her eyes wander for a little longer than they should.

"Yeah, you almost spilled everything on top of me." He says. Oh. So he's arrogant.

"Hey!" she calls him out "You bumped into me as well." She fights back. Oh. So she's feisty.

He opens his mouth to retort something back, but the way her eyes nearly scrutinize him to the ground make him rethink his words, and instead he says,

"You're right. Sorry."

Her scrutinizing look turns into a surprised one. She didn't expect him to cave in so easily. He didn't expect himself to cave in so easily either. But there's something about her that just… draws him in.

There's some seconds of silence, neither of them wanting to go away but at the same time, neither of them wanting to leave. She directs her gaze to the spilled liquid on the ground and sighs.

"Oh um," he says, like he's trying to fix something, or come up with an excuse. "I'll buy you another one."

"Oh, it's okay." She says, refusing.

"No, no." he says. "I know a place just around the corner. It's supposed to be really good."

"Well…" she thinks about it.

"Come on." He says with a slight smile. "It'll be fine."

She contemplates it for a while longer and then adds, "sure."

"Oh, my name's J. Daniel Atlas, by the way." He offers. She looks at him with wide eyes.

"Now _that's_ a name." she says, poking fun at him. He mocks a look.

"Daniel's fine." He says, a bit nervous. "Danny, even."

"Danny?" she adds, with a feisty smile.

"Okay maybe not Danny." He corrects. She notices he's speaking faster now, and she wonders if that's how he normally speaks or if he's just getting nervous. He's mentally scolding himself, because he can feel himself speaking faster than he can think. Again.

But she smiles a kitten smile at him and says, "No, I like Danny."

He looks at her with an amused smile for a split second, and says. "Um, okay, yeah, okay."

"I'm Henley." She replies in exchange. "Henley Reeves."

He still doesn't know how, but he somehow convinces her to sit down at the coffee shop and they start talking. At first it's nothing special. They talk about what they like, and what they wanted to be as kids, and how neither of them usually walks around that part of town, and they probably wouldn't have been there if it hadn't been for their friends. They talk about their friends too, and they find that, oddly enough, they'd get along very well.

And after an hour or so of casual conversation, she looks at him with one of her –by now—famous smiles, and asks,

"So what do you do? You know, for a living?"

And when she does, a sudden feeling of commodity and comfort, of recognition and familiarity, overwhelms him.

"I'm sorry… but have we met before?" he asks, seemingly out of the blue. It surprises her for a second, and she looks at him with inspecting eyes. For some reason, she wants to answer yes. Instead, she settles for,

"No, I… I don't think so."

He nods his head a bit distractedly.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" he asks.

"I asked about what you do for a living." She reminds him.

"Oh yeah." He realizes. "Well, it's not exactly for a living. Yet, anyways, but…" he says, as he searches his jean's pockets for something. Out of his right pocket, he takes out a deck of cards. It should surprise her, she notices, but it doesn't. It feels _right_.

He shuffles them with dexterity, and she chuckles. He opens them as a fan in front of her, and with a clever smile, he talks.

"Pick a card."


	2. 10 Things I Know About You

Okay, so I decided to make this a series of one-shots about the Horsemen because I'm way too obsessed with the movie to let it go.

I recently read the fic **And Let The Magic Begin** (if you haven't read it, read it. It's precious) and absolutely loved the idea of the Horsemen playing Never Have I Ever. After a random burst of inspiration, I decided to write my version of it! Hope you all enjoy!

Happy reading!

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**10 Things I Know About You **

The Four Horsemen knew about each other about as much as they had managed to learn in a month. Which, considering they had changed countries twice in that month, and had began planning and putting in motion the greatest magic trick/heist the world has ever seen, wasn't nearly enough time to get to know each other at all.

They knew brief, punctual things about each other. It was common knowledge, for instance, that Merritt drank. A lot. And he had a remarkable, Viking-like tolerance to alcohol. The man could gulp down three gallons of vodka and not feel it. It was known, for example, that no one was allowed to take any of Henley's multiple pairs of gloves; they were sacred, if she never took them off it was because she had a good reason not to. They had also learned –and somewhat the hard way— not to mess with Daniel's carefully plotted schedules, or else. And they all knew not to give Jack any sort of sugar-packed snack after 5 pm if you didn't want him to pull an all-nighter throwing cards at everything.

But if one were to ask Merritt what Daniel's hometown was, he would most likely guess and get it wrong. If one would've asked Henley what Jack's favorite color was, she wouldn't know. They knew things about each other that they had learned in the short amount of time they had spent together, but to the exception of Daniel and Henley, who had known each other for years, none of the Horsemen knew anything essential about each other.

Which is why, on a night nearly a month after they had been recruited, Henley thought playing Never Have I Ever was a good way of emptying the fridge. Jack had brought to their –Daniel and Henley's mainly— attention that a fridge as full of alcohol as theirs (it was full of beer bottles no one really knew where from) was nothing but distractions for Merritt. But alcohol was not to be thrown away or wasted, so as a solution, Henley offered a drinking game.

They sat on the floor of their living room in a shapeless circle, beer bottles sitting in front of them. Lots of beer bottles. After nearly half an hour of convincing, bottles in hand, Henley took a second before starting to revise the rules of the game.

"So, you know the game, right?" She asked. The others nodded, but she proceeded to explain it anyways. "Each one of us proposes something, and those of us who have done it drink. That easy."

"Alright, alright." Merritt said, his voice eager for alcohol in his system. "Never have I ever..." He pretended to think about it for a second. "Been a pain in the ass."

The three other Horsemen looked at each other a bit confusedly.

"Danny boy, that was for you to drink the entire bottle." He added with a chuckle. Daniel mocked a smile at him, and Merritt blew him a kiss sarcastically.

"Alright, get a room you two." Henley added with a smile. "I'll go. Never have I ever kissed someone."

"Oh, I'm sorry, are we playing the PG-13 version of this?" Merritt exclaimed sarcastically.

"It's only to get this started. Drink up." Henley scolded him. The four drank from their beers.

"Alright" Jack said, with a smile. "Never have I ever messed up a magic trick in front of a big audience."

Henley, Jack and Daniel drank.

"Oh wow, the ever perfect J. Daniel Atlas has screwed up?" Merritt poked at him.

"To be fair," the young man replied. "It was my first show, and it was a stupid calculation error."

"Henley?" Jack asked.

Henley raised her eyebrows at the floor. "I was in LA, and I was supposed to make my way out of some iron handcuffs. I had the key up my left sleeve but when I faked forcing myself out, the key fell out and I was stuck in them." She explained. "It didn't take long for them to leave the show and ask for their money back after that."

There was a series of "oohhs" and "awws" uttered by the three men, and she smiled shyly at the floor.

"Jack?" Daniel asked.

"I was performing a card trick in front of a crowd, and one of the audience members caught the trick and called me out on it." The youngest explained. The other three chuckled compassionately at him. "But, if it serves for anything, I learned to incorporate that into other tricks."

"Okay, never have I ever" Merritt continued, as Daniel eyed him, unsure if this was gonna be another insult or not. "Brought a girl or guy home after a show."

The four of them drank out of their beers, to their mutual amusement. None of them asked for stories, but Henley added,

"Well none of that now. We're not risking this entire thing for sex."

Daniel wondered whether she had an ulterior motive to establish that rule, and whether that motive was related to him or not, but dismissed the thought immediately when it was his turn.

"Ummm..." He thought. "Never have I ever used magic as an excuse to get away from something."

To their surprise, the four Horsemen drank. Ah, so they did have something in common other than not being virgins. It wasn't supposed to turn out as a deep question; Daniel had posed it out of ideas. But as it turns out, they were all running from something, and they found comfort in knowing they shared that feeling. Wordlessly, they asked each other about their stories. They had never had a conversation this personal in the month they had spent together, but somehow, they were all willing to share. So they did. They mostly kept the explanations short, to avoid wallowing in self-pity.

"Parents died in a freak car accident. Been an orphan since I was nineteen." Jack offered, and the mood instantly got darker.

"Wait, aren't you nineteen now?" Henley joked, trying to lighten the mood ever so slightly. Jack smiled sadly. "I was kicked out of my family." She offered instead.

Daniel remembered meeting her two days after her father had kicked her out. She had told him she had had a fight with her dad because, contrary to what he wanted, she was not interested in becoming a lawyer, and so he had kicked her out. Daniel wondered if she had ever gotten in touch with her family since they parted ways six years ago.

"Believe it or not," Merritt shared next. "I wasn't a star student, and I avoided college."

They all nodded in agreement. None of them had finished college. Daniel and Henley had started a year or two, but they had both left it to pursue their careers as magicians instead.

"My parents weren't too happy about that, so my brother and I left to make our way on our own. Of course later he took all of my money and ran away…" Merritt finished his explanation. The rest of the Horsemen looked at him compassionately.

It was Daniel's turn to talk, and everyone looked at him in expectant silence. The young man was almost like an unbreakable wall of steel and they all wondered just what it was that had conceited Daniel Atlas running away.

"Um," he stammered a bit. "Panic attacks." He offered simply.

Merritt and Jack were shocked; their eyes open wide and their mouth hanging open in silence. Henley knew. Henley had known since he had told her all those years ago, on one of those nights where he was just Danny, the boy that fell in love with magic at 14 and not J. Daniel Atlas, the arrogant magician he posed as during shows.

"Man, I'm sorry" Merritt offered, and Daniel nodded. He knew he was apologizing for all those times in which he had laughed about his control-freakiness, and Daniel forgave him for it.

Seconds of silence passed after that as the three men started another bottle, and Henley took the lead again, heart eager to lighten up the mood. She took the opportunity to indirectly question Danny about something that had been happening in her life, even years after the two of them had parted ways. She figured asking him directly would offer no actual answer, so this might be the only chance she had.

On the day of her first solo performance, she received a large bouquet of roses from an unknown sender. She appreciated the gesture at the time, giving her the boost of confidence she needed just moments before her show. She wondered for a minute or two who the sender was, but dismissed the thought when she was called out to perform. Had it been a one-time-only thing, she would've probably forgotten about it. But this kept happening every time she had a show. And not only on the days she had a show. On her birthdays, she'd receive a box of chocolates. And on the times she had a show on her birthday, she'd receive both.

She had suspected it to be her boyfriends' doing at the time; family members even, despite the fact that she hadn't heard about any of them for years. It was only after she had discarded those options, after she kept receiving gifts even when she had broken up with her boyfriends and after she totally dismissed the family option, that she thought about Daniel Atlas. She really didn't think it was possible; she didn't think the guy had it in him. But she remembered that one time he had given her what he had called a 'black rose for a black day', and figured maybe, just maybe, it was possible.

So she took her chance now, noting that the young man was starting his second bottle, to finally resolve that once and for all.

"Never have I ever…" she began, casting a quick glance at the young man at her left. "Sent flowers or chocolates to a girl."

Jack drank. Merritt looked at her with a frown, as if silently telling her he expected more from her. Danny hadn't drunk yet. They looked at him expectantly, as the young man considered whether he had to drink or not.

"There's no lying in this, Danny boy." Merritt reminded him. Daniel sighed exasperatedly. He brought his bottle to his lips and took a gulp of his second beer. Henley hid her wide smile in her hair as he stole a glance at her. "So you aren't an arrogant piece of shit after all. You do have your good points." Merritt poked him.

"Very funny." Daniel replied. "But at least I'm capable of showing some sort of compassion."

"Bo-hoo." Merritt replied sarcastically.

Rounds after, when the boys were on their fourth beer, Henley was on her third, and all that was left in the middle were two more bottles, the mood had changed considerably. The haze from the alcohol gave them more confidence. Jack had lost his hoodie and sat in a plain white shirt. Daniel had unbuttoned the first three buttons of the button-down he was wearing under a sweater and had folded up his sleeves till his elbows. Merritt had also lost the jacket he was wearing and sat in a black t-shirt. Henley was the only one that had, surprisingly, not lost any clothes.

It was Merritt's turn to ask, and, if he hadn't been bold enough pre-drunkenness, he was definitely bold enough now.

"Never have I ever had sex with someone older than me." It was a stupid question, and the other three horsemen rolled their eyes. But the four of them drank. They looked at each other amusedly. It had been a stupid question in the beginning, but now all of them were curious.

"Five years older." Henley questioned. Merritt and her drank.

"Ten years older." Daniel followed, his voice sort of strained as he looked at Henley. Merritt was the only one who drank.

None of them commented, but instead, Henley offered another one.

"Never have I ever slept with someone younger than me." The three men drank. "Five years younger." She added. Daniel drank with slightly reddened cheeks. Merritt drank proudly.

"Ten years younger." Jack offered. Merritt was the only one who drank. The four looked at the mentalist a bit awkwardly, until Daniel finally spoke.

"I don't even want to know the story."

The only thing Merritt added was, "All I'm saying is, it was legal."

They didn't say anything else about the matter, but the topic of conversation didn't change that much.

"Never have I ever hooked up with more than one person on the same night." Jack offered. His speech was ever so slightly slurred, and he had a stupid grin plastered on his face courtesy of the alcohol. Daniel was certain by now these beers were not regular beers. He had drunken four beers in one night before, but never had he felt so drunk with them. Regardless, the four of them took a sip.

"More than three people." Merritt asked. Jack, Daniel and Merritt drank. Slightly annoyed at Danny's drinking, Henley added,

"More than five people."

"Does it count if it's five?" Daniel asked, much bolder than he was when he had no alcohol in him.

"Slut!" Merritt added sarcastically.

"Looks like Danny's more of a playboy than we thought." Jack added, shoving the young man slightly. Danny just smiled. Taking this as a lead, Jack added, "Never have I ever fallen for Daniel Atlas."

It wasn't a good question. There was only one person known to the four of them that would drink for that one, but to be fair, Jack was way too out of it to think clearly, and he most likely hadn't thought about what he had just said. But Daniel, Merritt and Henley managed to stray away from their hazy drunkenness for a second to realize what was going on.

Henley knew she had to drink. It didn't matter if she didn't, it wouldn't solve anything. The remaining three already knew her feelings towards Danny. So she took the bottle to her lips and drank, avoiding his gaze.

Feeling like he should square things up, Merritt took the opportunity to aim his own.

"Never have I ever fallen for Henley Reeves." That shook Henley to a start. She looked up from the floor to see what the reaction was. Merritt winked at her and drank, adding, "What? You're hot" innocently. All eyes turned to Daniel Atlas as he, too, took a sip from his beer without saying anything, without looking at anyone.

To be frank, both of the aforementioned were counting on their drunkenness to forget the question even happened the next morning, which is why they had decided to confront it truthfully. But when they ran out of beer bottles, and exhaustion was forcing them to quit the game and go to sleep, Danny and Henley found themselves alone in the kitchen for some minutes, Merritt and Jack had just gone to sleep.

They looked at each other awkwardly for a while, stood in uncomfortable silence. Not being able to take it anymore, Henley decided to speak.

"Thanks" she said. She hated that they were acting so awkward, like immature teenagers, but she blamed it on the alcohol. "About the flowers, I mean."

Even in his drunken state, he managed to play arrogant. "What flowers?"

"The roses. And the chocolates." She added. Her voice sounded so sincere, he wasn't able to keep up his arrogant tone for long.

"Yeah." He said. "Well, it was the least I could do after…" he left the sentence unfinished, knowing she would understand. She did.

"It helped me a lot." She confessed, thinking that one more personal thought wouldn't make much of a difference anymore. "To get through and do my solo acts."

Daniel nodded slowly. "I'm glad." They stood in silence for a while more, until she spoke again, wishing him goodnight and he replied back. They both went to sleep.

The next morning, as the four made their way to the kitchen to grab breakfast, no one mentioned the game the night before. If Henley and Daniel remembered anything, neither of them said. And neither of them acted like they remembered, so it was all forgotten.

But, of course, both of them remembered. And Henley was pleased to find a single rose in a cup of water on the kitchen counter.


	3. 50 Ways to Say Goodbye

So I was listening to the song 50 Ways to Say Goodbye by Train, and started thinking about what happened between Danny and Henley all those years ago, and decided to write this!

**Summary: **Merritt wants to know what happened between Daniel and Henley that made her leave, but the last thing Daniel wants is to remember the single worst moment of his life. Instead, he takes the chance to joke around with the mentalist.

Also, thank you so much for the reviews! They make my day! And if any of you have any ideas, or writing prompts that would like me to write about, leave them in the reviews! I'd love to bring to life some of them!

Happy reading!

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**50 Ways to Say Goodbye**

"Hey Danny, can I ask you something?" Merritt McKinney, professional mind reader and mentalist, made his way to the living room of a tiny New York apartment on East Evans Street. Wearing a fedora he never took off, and with an alcoholic drink of some sorts in his left hand, he called out for the young sleight of hand. Said young man was lying down on a couch reading a book. The book, Merritt noticed, was one Henley had bought him for his birthday a few months back, and he seemed to be enjoying it far too much.

"Um…" Daniel pretended to think about it for some seconds, his eyes never leaving the book's page. "No."

After a year working and living together, the Horsemen had gotten so accustomed to each other they had practically become a family. None of them would likely admit it, but they had grown to love each other and accept each other. Not to mention, they knew each other from head to toe. So Daniel Atlas, knowing the kind of man Merritt McKinney was, paid no attention to the man and instead opted for sarcasm, irony and dry humor to address him.

The older man sat down on one of the couches beside the one where the sleight of hand magician was lying down, propping his feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"It's just, ever since I met you, there's something I've been wondering." The mentalist, knowing the young man as well as the young man knew him, pressed the matter with normality. Their conversations were often, if not always, like this. They were used to each other.

"Take a number and wait in line." Daniel replied, his eyes still not leaving the page.

"Because, I know you're a bit weird, and you have your quirks, and you think you're on top of the world when you're really not…"

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Daniel interjected sarcastically.

"But I figured no one, not even you, would be stupid enough to push Henley away." Merritt finished. The sleight of hand sighed heavily. He should've known this had something to do with Henley Reeves. The mentalist had taken a special interest in Henley, and, more specifically, in hers and Daniel's relationship ever since day one. Now, one year later, he hadn't let it go.

The young magician put his book down slightly and looked at the mentalist with half-closed eyes. "Is this supposed to be an insult or something?"

"No." Merritt replied simply. The way he wasn't aggressively staring at Daniel convinced the young magician that he wasn't attempting his tricks on him. Whatever he wanted to know, he wanted Daniel to tell him personally. Daniel felt a certain reassurance about that.

But that didn't mean that Daniel was going to give in as easily as Merritt probably hoped he would. So he put his book back up and kept reading.

"But I figure" Merritt began again, not giving up. Daniel rolled his eyes behind the book. "If you didn't kick her out, then she left."

"I thought you were a mentalist, not Sherlock Holmes. But good going on your deductions." Daniel replied.

Merritt ignored his comments. "Now, Henley says it's because, and I quote, 'she was too fat for you'. But we both know she wouldn't leave just for that, don't we, Danny boy?"

Daniel replied nothing this time. He figured maybe if he stayed quite, Merritt would eventually give up and leave.

"I can share some theories, if you want." The mentalist kept insisting. "I've had a lot of time to think about them. But I think it'll be easier if you just tell me what happened, and we all walk away happily."

Daniel was too bothered to remain silent. "I'm sorry, how exactly do I leave happily?"

"Well, you'll have proven that our relationship has evolved to a point where you can tell me these things. Isn't that something to be happy about?" Merritt explained.

"Right." Daniel said sarcastically.

"So. What happened between you and Henley that made her leave?"

Merritt had put the question in the air, and it hung there, in the ambiance of the afternoon, refusing to leave. Henley had gone out shopping, and Jack had locked himself in his room practicing a trick. Daniel knew, if for some reason he was to explain to Merritt the truth, Merritt would be the only one listening. Which to the young sleight of hand only meant one thing: he could lie.

He was one of the best magicians after all. And he had a remarkable talent for lying. He could pull off a perfect poker face in a matter of seconds, as he did for every single show, and his ambition drove him to think it was very possible he could pull it off in the same way right there and then.

"Fine." He surrendered. "If you really want to know, I'll tell you."

Merritt smiled wide and chuckled, excited that he had broken down J. Daniel Atlas.

Daniel put down the book slightly and looked at the mentalist. He focused on pulling off the best poker face he could accomplish, and then he spoke.

"I returned everything I bought her." He said. Merritt looked at him questioningly, trying to understand what the young man had just said.

"I'm sorry?"

"We were running out of money, and I had to return all of the props and things I bought for her, as my assistant obviously." Daniel said. The mentalist looked at him with a scrutinizing look, as if he was really trying to read him. "She got mad, and she left."

"You're kidding me." Merritt said. It was a firm statement. The mentalist knew the sleight of hand was tricking him.

"Okay, fine." Daniel asked, smiling inwardly. "The truth is… I'm actually a woman and she wasn't comfortable with that."

"Oh, very funny." Merritt replied. Daniel smiled wide.

"Actually, here's what happened: she got run over by a purple Scion."

"Really?" Merritt played along.

"Yeah, yeah. A really crappy one at that." Daniel followed. "Right now, she's actually a zombie. She just wears a lot of make up to disguise that fact."

"I've dealt with zombies before." Merritt said. Daniel chuckled. He brought up his book again, deciding the topic was over. But for Merritt, it was never over.

"So it _is_ what Henley said, huh." He said. "She really left cause you called her fat."

Daniel's nerves were boiling by now. His head was screaming, and _he_ wanted to scream. He had, wrongly and without meaning to, called Henley fat one time, and the girl kept reminding him about it. It had been one giant mistake, and although he had never apologized directly to her about it, Daniel felt horrible about it every day.

But Daniel knew the truth. That was not the reason Henley left him all those years ago. He remembered the day she left as clearly as he remembered the day he met her. Those were the first two memories that would come up when he thought of Henley Reeves; one of them was one of the best moments of his life, the other was the single worst. Henley was that kind of a person for him. She was both the best memory of his entire life, and yet at the same time, she was also the worst. She was the yin and the yang. She was harmony to his life. And Daniel wasn't too sure how he felt about that.

In fact, Merritt's constant asking about his single worst memory to date had started a riot in his head. His pride still felt the sting of her departure. True, it could be argued she mainly left because of him; it was mainly his fault. But the truth is that he still couldn't forgive himself for what had happened. Henley Reeves was not only his assistant. She was… well, it got to a point where Henley Reeves was all Daniel Atlas had. She was everything.

And Daniel, being the Daniel he is, felt the constant need to impress her, as if making her believe he was Superman was the only way to get her to stay with him. And, every time he tried to make himself look cool, it produced the opposite effect on her. And without knowing it, Daniel pushed her away and away every time. He didn't even realize it, and so, eventually, he concluded that she didn't want the same as him. It was only years later, as he went over everything that had ever happened with Henley every day of his now lonely life, that he noticed all the mistakes he had made. But of course, by the time he did, it was already too late. She had left. And he had let her. End of story.

Daniel had tried for six years to forget the day she left and why she left. He tried to convince himself that if he forgot it, it'd be as if it had never happened. It'd be as if he had never made those mistakes. But even though he tried hard to forget it, he never could. It haunted him in his dreams; it came back to him every day at least once. He buried it in the back of his mind and in the back of his heart, and promised to himself he'd never talk to anyone about it. It wasn't his own stubbornness what stopped him from explaining everything to Merritt. It was his own heart, refusing to feel any more pain. He refused to now that he had found her again.

"You're really not going to tell me, are you?" Merritt finally seemingly gave up.

"Nope." Daniel replied, focusing his eyes back at the book he was reading. Merritt sighed heavily and stood up.

"Alright Danny." He said.

In that moment, the lock of the door turned and Henley came in, carrying two full, brown paper bags.

"Hey boys!" she greeted them. The two men looked up at her. Merritt tipped his fedora at her.

"Hey" Daniel spoke, loud and clear. "Need a hand?" he asked, already standing up.

"No, I got it." Henley said, putting the bags on the kitchen counter. "Oh, shit." She remembered. "Forgot the milk. I'll be right back. See you in a bit!" And she stumbled out the door.

Merritt looked back at Daniel, who was still standing up. He eyed him with a sly smile.

"What?" Daniel asked.

"I just noticed." Merritt said.

"What?"

"You never say bye to Henley, and yet you always greet her enthusiastically."

Daniel gulped, but shrugged and pretended there was nothing wrong with that.

"Are you still suffering from abandonment issues?" Merritt poked. Daniel shrugged again and walked towards the kitchen, ready to help put the groceries away.

He'd never tell Merritt, or Henley or Jack for that matter, but the reminder of saying goodbye to his ex-assistant was still way too fresh in his mind to repeat it ever again. After all, he was never good at goodbyes anyways.


	4. On Euphemisms and Pajamas

Hello, hello! I am just on fire with these! Ideas keep getting into my mind, so here's a new chapter! Also, on a side note, please review before following/favoriting! I love hearing what you guys have to say about these, or if you think there's some way I could make them better, or even PROMPTS! If you have ideas, let me hear them! I'd be happy to write them!

**Summary: **Merritt and Jack looked at her and instantly saw there was something way off. There was something way off about Henley Reeves: her pajamas. They were not her pajamas, they were not Jack's pajamas, and they were not Merritt's pajamas. Only one of them was careful enough to actually care about pajamas, and coincidentally, it was the one missing from the kitchen.

Happy reading!

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**On Euphemisms and Pajamas**

Merritt and Jack had woken up at the exact same time. It was a weird occurrence, because they had almost completely different sleep schedules and sleep manners. But that morning, they had met each other at the kitchen almost at the exact same time. They had vaguely greeted each other with a feeble 'morning' and they had taken two seats at the kitchen table. Jack had gone for Cheerios for breakfast, and Merritt had swung a beer bottle from the fridge.

"It's 9 in the morning." Jack had told him, looking at him through a frown.

"So?" Merritt had said. Jack shook his head and dropped the topic.

They were both eating and drinking in comfortable silence, occasionally mentioning something about some trick they were working on, or something involving a sports game they had seen the night before. Truthfully, the apartment was pretty much silent in the mornings. That is, before Daniel woke up. Once the sleight of hand was up and running, there was anything but silence in the apartment. He'd get everyone running around, working on blueprints and shows and plans and tricks. He felt the need to be efficient every hour, or something in his head might explode. The others went along with him because they too, wanted to be a part of the Eye. But mostly it was because they'd rather go along with him than listen to him rant for five hours straight.

So the Horsemen had learned to appreciate the quiet mornings they were allowed before Daniel woke up, which were usually null or very few; the sleight of hand had a thing for waking up ridiculously early. Jack thought it was because he forced himself to. Merritt thought he was just weird like that. None of them, not even Henley knew, Daniel Atlas almost never slept at all.

But that morning, for some reason, it was 9 AM and Daniel still hadn't made his way to the kitchen. It was both a good sign and a somewhat bad sign. The Horsemen knew something had to be up for the magician not to be up early. But still, they enjoyed the tranquility and the peace for those brief moments, Jack munching on milk-soaked Cheerios, Merritt chugging down his beer.

It wasn't until half an hour later when the two Horsemen started worry. There was no way Daniel Atlas was fine and hadn't woken up by 9:30 in the morning.

"What's up with Danny this morning?" Jack commented casually, trying not to sound too worried about the young magician. "He's usually up way before this time."

He had stated something they both knew and were both thinking, but for some reason, Jack thought it'd be easier to think about if he said it out loud.

"You're right." Merritt agreed, taking the same tone Jack had. "But you know what, I think he probably just overslept."

"Right. Something we can bug him about later." Jack added with a smile. Any point with which Daniel demonstrated not being perfect was a point in the favor of the other Horsemen.

"Exactly. We should be jubilant." Merritt agreed.

But they weren't exactly jubilant. They weren't even happy about Daniel's mistake. Daniel was a proud douchebag sometimes, but most of the times he was just proud. Incredibly proud. He'd outlive anyone trying to have the last word, and he would never, ever make a mistake if he could do anything to remedy it. A mistake would entitle something had gone awfully wrong in his schedule, and there was only one reason why that could've happened. And so Merritt and Jack were worried shitless. Whether they would willingly admit it or not, they had grown to love each other, and that included Atlas as well.

Their thoughts were interrupted by steps approaching the kitchen.

"See? That's gotta be him. We should've appreciated our time in tranquility more." Merritt said, joking around to hide the fact that he was actually relieved. But the mentalist and the youngest magician fooled no one. The second they heard the footsteps, they were instantly relieved.

But, to their surprise, it wasn't Daniel Atlas who crossed the threshold of the kitchen door. It was Henley Reeves.

"Hey boys!" she greeted them with a smile. They were her boys by now. The four of them knew it, and there was nothing to be done, really. Not like it bothered them. They were perfectly happy being her boys.

Merritt and Jack looked at her and instantly saw there was something way off. Her hair was down as usual, and other than her sleepy, no-makeup face –which they were used to by now—there was something really wrong with Henley Reeves: her pajama. She was wearing a long-sleeved, red shirt that hung around way too loosely for it to be her size, and green, checkered pajama bottoms that were way too long for her legs. They were not her pajamas, they were not Jack's pajamas –he slept in a shirt and boxers apparently—and they were not Merritt's pajamas –the Horsemen didn't even think he had pajamas. Only one of them was careful enough to actually care about pajamas, and coincidentally, it was the one missing from the kitchen.

"Morning"

"Morning" Jack and Merritt replied somewhat awkwardly, trying to hide the fact that they had noticed she was wearing Daniel's pajamas as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Ooh, Cheerios." She said, glancing at Jack's bowl. "Are there still some left?"

"Um…" Jack stammered, still trying to get that thought out of his head, but to no avail. "Yeah." He managed to answer.

While Henley's back was turned as she poured cereal and milk into her bowl, Jack and Merritt looked at each other with wide eyes. They mouthed surprised exclamations to each other, both of them too much in shock to be able to process anything that was happening. As soon as Henley turned around, they went back to their normal, tranquil state.

"So um" Merritt coughed, avoiding Henley's gaze. "Sleep well?"

"Oh, yeah, so well." The girl replied, her mouth full of cereal. Jack's eyes widened and Merritt's contorted into a frown for a split second.

"You, um…" Jack stammered, trying to avoid making evident what he was trying to find out. "Get a lot of sleep?"

"Um…" she muttered, thinking. "I got what I needed, yeah." She said.

Jack nearly choked on his cereal. Merritt's eyes were wide open.

There were far too many coincidences for the men not to assume the obvious: Daniel and Henley had –finally—resolved the undying sexual tension. But the girl, who was usually a bit more private about her private life, didn't really seem like she was embarrassed about what had supposedly happened.

"Jack, are you okay?" she asked, as Jack coughed and coughed, covering his mouth with a kitchen rag, trying not to choke and die.

"Yeah, um, I think he was just surprised." Merritt added.

"About me getting some sleep?"

"Among other things, yeah." Merritt replied. Henley looked at him with a confused frown, but then dismissed the topic. Jack managed to swallow and stop coughing.

There was silence for a while, and then Merritt, deciding it was his turn to bother Henley about her night with Daniel, added,

"You know, you were surprisingly quiet, because I don't think Jack and I heard you."

It didn't take long for Jack to be choking on his cereal again.

"What?" Henley asked, still too asleep and now very confused to understand the subtext with which Merritt's words were dripping.

"I mean, you'd think after all this time, you would've… you know… enjoyed it a lot." He added. Jack was coughing violently by now, and Henley looked at him with worried eyes.

"Oh my God, Jack, are you really okay?"

Through tearful eyes and coughs, Jack nodded. His cough was dying down, but the guy was still trying to regain his breath.

But Merritt was enjoying this way too much to let it end, "I'm sorry it had to be that disappointing."

Jack had decided it was better not to eat at all until Merritt ended his euphemisms, and eventually regained his ability to laugh and talk like a normal human without nearly dying. Henley scowled, but said nothing.

"So where is the champ?" Merritt asked.

"The who?" Henley asked.

"You know… Danny boy."

"He's in the shower." Henley replied nonchalantly.

"Of course. Gotta get off that steam and that sweat." Merritt said with a chuckle. Jack erupted in laughter.

"Okay. What is up with you two?" Henley finally asked, eyeing them carefully.

"For God's sake, woman!" Merritt exclaimed with a chuckle. "You're wearing his pajamas!"

Henley looked down at what she was wearing, and then at Merritt and Jack one at a time. She shrugged and frowned.

"And?"

"And?!" Jack and Merritt exclaimed, bewildered. "I think it's pretty clear why…" Merritt said, raising his eyebrows at the table in front of him.

"Um, yeah, because Danny messed up my laundry and I couldn't wear my own pajamas, and so I asked for his so that I could wear something to sleep, unlike you guys who practically sleep naked." She retorted, cleverness and astuteness dripping from her voice.

Merritt and Jack looked at each other with surprised looks, and then back and Henley.

"Why are you so surprised?" she asked, innocently.

Footsteps were heard on the way to the kitchen, and Daniel Atlas appeared at the threshold, dressed with a sweater and jeans, his hair still wet from the shower.

"Good morning." He greeted them with a small smile. He was the only Horsemen who cared enough to actually greet a full 'good morning' at the rest. It was part of the whole pretentious act he kept trying to pull off even when he wasn't at shows.

Jack and Merritt stared at him with wide eyes, and Daniel looked at Henley with a confused look, asking for an explanation.

"Don't mind them," Henley told him. "They're just being immature."

"Immature?" Merritt exclaimed. "We were developing logical conclusions."

"For some reason, I don't think those logical conclusions were completely logical." Daniel added, making his way to the coffee maker, in desperate need of caffeine.

"What took you so long to wake up anyways?" Jack asked Daniel, still not entirely believing nothing had happened between the escape artist and the sleight of hand.

"Oh, right," said Daniel, as he worked the Nespresso machine swiftly and coffee started pouring in his mug. "The bed sheets stuck today." He offered as a simple excuse.

Jack and Merritt looked at each other and sighed, giving up.

"Anyways, don't you guys have to get ready? We still have tons of work to do, and you're not even dressed. I want you in the living room to discuss plans in fifteen minutes." Daniel scolded them. The two other men looked at each other and sighed once more. They got up from the table.

"Yes, yes, we're going." They said in unison, and left the kitchen to go get ready.

"What's up with them this morning?" Daniel asked Henley, as he took a sip of coffee from his mug and got closer to her.

"Who knows" Henley breathed. "Anyways, I should get moving too. I still have to get ready." She said, leaving her bowl in the sink.

"Alright. I'll see you in the living room in a while."

"'Kay" she replied, with a smile. Daniel leaned in to kiss her on the lips quickly before she took off, and smiled.

They were going to have a lot of fun with the other two Horsemen for a while.


	5. At Least I'm Not As Sad(As I Used To Be)

**Author's note: **Hey! I'm so glad you guys are liking these so much! To the guest that said they were in a very mad mood and this fic made them happier, I can only say, that's the best compliment you could ever give me! I write these so that people can enjoy them, so thank you, and I hope I can keep making all of you happy! I know another guest sent me a request to do the hook up before chapter four, and I am very excited about that, so I'll start writing it asap! But I wrote this yesterday, so here it is! It's based on a headcanon I read on tumblr:

**Summary/Original Headcanon: **_Occasionally (more like every night) after Central Park has closed, the Horsemen sneak there and go on the carousel. They don't do anything bad, just sit and hang out and talk. - submitted by goodnightfromthefourhorsemen_

The title makes reference to the song by the same name by Fun. (my favorite band) so feel free to listen to it! It's awesome!

Happy reading!

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**At Least I'm Not As Sad (As I Used To Be)**

It was Jack's idea to go back there. He wasn't usually credited with great ideas; Daniel likes to just take the credit for everything. But this time it's different. This time, they're done with their initiation. They're done with their jobs. They're finished. And this time, for one of the only times since they've met, the Horsemen listen to what their youngest member has to say, and they agree.

It's been three months since they were welcomed into the Eye, since they realized they had been played all along by none other than Dylan Rhodes (or was it Shrike now?). Three months, and they still hadn't heard anything about said magical organization. The Horsemen were beginning to think it was all fake; they were beginning to convince themselves, through the deceit they were such professionals at, that they had been used in a very old and very terrible game of revenge. They had been merely pieces in a chess game that started ages ago, protecting their king. Only now the king had left, and no one had informed them of who had actually won the game.

So when Jack, who had been sitting around doing nothing all day for the past three days, told the Horsemen he was going to go back to the carrousel that night, the remaining three illusionists looked at each other with doubtful faces. It wasn't a bad idea. Daniel hated to admit it on some level, but it was a good idea.

"That's a great idea." He said, praising Jack. "Maybe we'll find something that'll tell us why they haven't contacted us yet."

As magicians, they know hope. Hope is a dear friend of them; hope wanders around with them everywhere they go. Hope is their solid base, the base from which they part to deceive audiences, to entertain, to delight. Hope in people's eyes as he shuffles a deck with dexterity in front of them is what keeps Daniel going, even when he was living in a shithole apartment and barely had any money to spare food. He'd rather die than admit it, because it would destroy his arrogant reputation, but the smile on people's faces when he'd guess the card they had picked was worth all the trouble. Henley breathed the hope produced by people's gasps as she miraculously appeared flawlessly out of a piranha-full tank. The hope in people's voices as they admired his ability to read into their past was a sweet melody to Merritt's ears. And for Jack, well, hope was everything he was left with when he had no one and nothing.

So hope led them to decide that that night they would be returning to that carrousel that had determined their fate three months ago. It had been three months of laying low, trying not to be noticed, waiting until the world forgot about the time The Four Horsemen brought a little magic to the world. Waiting until people forgot how four magicians gave them back something they thought they had lost forever. It seemed cruel that all they could do was wait, but the Horsemen knew what the risks were, and what the consequences were. Laying low was the only thing they could do.

Needless to say, laying low had caused them to feel empty, almost lifeless. The magicians lived off of performing, of entertaining, of showing people everything they had worked so hard on. Laying low meant their audience was limited to three other people, all of which were also magicians and all of which were sick and tired of seeing Danny's card trick, Henley's escape from handcuffs, Jack's pickpocket wonders and Merritt's annoying reading habits. The four young illusionists whom had once been energetic, intriguing, enlightened, were now black and white caricatures playing themselves in a 1920s dramatic silent film.

So at 2 AM, they headed towards Central Park, way after the park had closed, and walked their way to the Lionel Shrike tree, and then up to the carrousel. Compared to that night three months ago when they had discovered whom had recruited them, the carrousel was empty, lifeless, still, with no lights or music. It froze like marble statues against the coldish air.

They looked around for a while, and when they were convinced that no one had followed them, and that they were the only ones there, they sat on the steps of the carrousel forming a shapeless circle.

As if engulfed by the cheeriness and happiness that the carrousel brought to kids, the Horsemen started to feel less troubled, as if their simple presence there had made them happier human beings.

"You know, this one time, I was at a beach in Florida" Merritt began, breaking the silence and stillness of the night, offering the Horsemen one of his stories. The remaining three looked at him with slight smiles and interested faces. Merritt's stories were always something to look forward to. "And I see this man, with a woman. He's not the womanizing type, regular looking dude. But he's with this amazing woman. And when I say amazing, I say _amazing._" The mentalist explained, with his usual humoristic tone.

"So me, being the… how should I put it... Well, being the educationally curious man that I am, walk up to them. I mean, this woman, she was like a supermodel." The man continued to stress, and Daniel and Jack let out a breathy chuckle. "So I follow them for a bit, regular mentalist business. And I hear her name's Janet."

The Horsemen weren't sure where this story was going, so they kept silent, looked at the mentalist with curiosity and nodded every once in a while. "Turns out, two months later, I'm at my buffet and awesome bar, doing my thing, when the same man walks up to me. Only this time, he's with a different woman." The mentalist explained. "She's blonde, not too tall, not bad but nothing compared to the other one. He comes up to me and tells me his wife wants me to hypnotize her." The other three were beginning to see where this was going, so they listened even more intently.

"So I do, and using that as leverage, I take the opportunity to mess with him. I tell him I know about his business in Florida, and Janet. Turns out," Merritt explained. A beat, and then, "Janet was her sister." Henley gasped, Jack's jaw dropped and Danny looked at Merritt with wide eyes. "So I tell him I can make his wife forget."

"Out of the goodness of your heart, I'm sure." Henley added sarcastically.

"Out of the goodness of my heart, and my pocket. I got 250 out of that bastard." Merritt finished, with a chuckle. The other three let out full chuckles, and the atmosphere was suddenly much lighter than it had been.

Before their laughter had died, as if evading the silence and stillness of the night, the Horsemen began engaging in casual conversation, something they hadn't done in a long time. It seemed like all they had done in the time they had known each other was talk about shows, and plans, and the Eye. Now they got to be, well, young people having fun, getting to know their friends. Their topics ranged from one thing to the other, none of them caring about the relevance of what they were talking about.

"No, I don't think I've ever had a Blueberry jam and peanut butter bagel." Daniel responded to Jack's culinary suggestion.

"Aw, man, it's literally the best thing I've ever eaten in my life!" the young magician explained.

"I'm a personal fan of cream cheese." Henley added.

Another conversation was focused on television shows.

"Friends!" Henley exclaimed. "That's the ultimate best show on television, ever!"

"Jennifer Aniston and Courtney Cox, young and hot. Those were the days." Merritt agreed.

"I was always more a fan of Cheers." Daniel offered.

"I'm sticking to Law and Order. Best show there is." Jack stated.

And some times their conversations were heated, especially when talking about magic.

"No, listen, I'm a sleight of hand. Of course my dexterity is better than all of yours." Daniel's arrogance spoke for him, his tone becoming cockier.

"Um, hello? I pickpocketed for a living." Jack intruded, offering his own candidature for best dexterity.

"I'm sorry boys, but as an escapologist, I need to know how to use my hands." Henley suggested seductively, hoping the subtext in her words would defeat the other two illusionists. But there were no hormones involved when the competition was magic-related.

"Alright, so why don't we settle this?" Merritt asked, taking out a ten dollar bill out of his wallet. He held it out with his index finger and his thumb. "I'm going to drop it, and whoever catches it is the best one with their hands."

Daniel, Henley and Jack knew that had nothing to do with dexterity more than it had to do with reflexes, eyesight and coordination. But it seemed like a fun competition and so they agreed. He held it out in front of Jack first, wiggling his eyebrows to try and confuse the pickpocket. The young one looked at the bill intently, his hand held out ready to catch it when it fell. Merritt dropped it, and Jack closed his index finger and thumb around thin air; the bill had fallen quicker than he had expected, and he hadn't caught it. He threw his hands on his head and threw his head backwards, lamenting himself as the other three laughed.

Merritt held it out in front of Henley next, and the girl assumed the same posture Jack had assumed and concentrated all her energies on catching the bill. When Merritt dropped it, hardly after it had left his fingers, Henley clutched it tightly. With a smile and an admiration exclamation, she pushed out her chest, as if proclaiming she was 'the man'. Danny and Merritt laughed at Jack as he lamented himself out loud.

"Alright, this is it, if Danny doesn't catch it, Henley wins." Merritt proclaimed. All three pairs of eyes were fixed on Danny, as the sleight of hand chuckled lightly.

Now, Daniel Atlas never lost. _Never._ And much less if it was something he was ridiculously good at. Sure being a pickpocket required dexterity and cleverness, and sure an escapologist had to know how to use her hands, but no one knew more about eyesight, and coordination as much as sleight of hands. He could do this in his sleep.

And then J. Daniel Atlas, the best sleight of hand in the world, looked to his left at the escapologist sitting ridiculously close to him. She was smiling through those red-lipstick lips, her eyes crinkling and her laugh a melody he'd never get tired of hearing. He couldn't avoid smiling too. Seeing her so delighted because she could practically taste the sweet victory of ten dollars and the privilege of saying she was better than them made him feel maybe, just this once, maybe J. Daniel Atlas could lose.

Merritt held out the bill in front of him, and the air tensed as the silence reigned over them. The mentalist dropped the bill… and the bill fell swiftly to the ground, Danny's fingers clutching around air just as Jack's had a few minutes ago.

Henley's victory scream sounded all over the park, and Daniel wondered if he had been wrong in letting her win. But when he saw her little victory dance and her laugh, he realized losing was one of the best choices he had ever made in his life. The three men laughed and chuckled at the girl's antics, Danny's smile plastered on his face so much that it seemed it would never fade.

But eventually, the laughter died down, and the Horsemen settled in silence. It was a much more comfortable silence than the one that had engulfed them at the beginning. The air seemed lighter and somehow more delightful, even as the breeze blew occasionally in their direction. It was somewhat chilly, and Daniel noticed Henley shivering ever so slightly by his side. Without needing a word from the escapologist, he took off his jacket and handed it to her, helping her wrap it around her tiny torso. Daniel wasn't large or tall, but the jacket wrapped around her petite figure made it seem as if he was a giant. The girl gave him a warm smile to thank him, and when he mimicked it, she snuggled closer to his side, Danny's arm wrapping around her shoulders. If the two other Horsemen noticed anything, they didn't mention it.

It was Jack who, for once, broke the silence after some minutes. And when he did, the truth in his question resonated in all of them.

"Do you think we were played? That this all was just his plan to get revenge and now we're left on our own?" he asked, his eyes squinted in a somewhat sad frown.

It seemed for a second like he was a young child asking his parents for comfort. Except Jack Wilder was as much of a child as any of the other three Horsemen, and he was anything but childish and innocent. He had been out on the streets; he had seen what the world was like. And he had survived it up until now. Just like the others.

Daniel and Henley looked at Merritt hopefully, expectantly, as if him being the oldest meant he was the one with all the answers. But when Merritt looked at them in the same way, the Horsemen realized they were all thinking the same, and so out of fear, none of them answered the question. Instead, Danny glanced at his watch and declared the time to be 3:30, to which the others decided it was time to go home.

And, as the four best magicians the world has ever seen walked home, engaged in meaningless conversation that delighted them, they realized that for once since they had met, their happiness didn't depend on the Eye. Their happiness now relied on each other, and they trusted each other to not let it dissipate. So what if the Eye hadn't contacted them yet? So what if it was, after all, indeed only just a trick? They realized it didn't matter, because the smiles painted on their faces were something way, way beyond magic.


	6. I Wanna Get Better

**Author's Note: **Hello, hello! So I got a request to write the hook up before chapter four, and here it is! Now, I'm not a smut writer, so I wrote fluff and then a small scene that would've happened after the smut. Also, I'm a sucker for plot and character development, so I tried to include it in a context that would both explore Henley and Danny's characters, including their pasts, and that would seem real. The title is, as happens to be most of the times, from the song "I Wanna Get Better" by Bleachers. Listen to it! I highly recommended it, and it inspired this fic! Hope you all like it! If any of you have more requests, I'd be happy to make them come to life!

Also, I'd like to give a special thanks to one of the guest reviewers, who simply left a review that made me want to write fanfiction until the day I die. I think saying I'm the best writer is definitely too much, but it definitely made my day! Thank you so much for your kind words, and I hope I can continue this for some time!

**Summary: **"Danny?" Henley asked, the anger in her tone of voice swiftly changing to concern in a matter of seconds. "Danny, are you alright?" Daniel tried to answer, but for some reason he couldn't form words, much less sentences. Henley realized in an instant what was happening. Two words she had learned to fear. Panic attack.

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**I Wanna Get Better**

The first thing Daniel had realized about his fellow Horsemen was that they were a disorganized bunch. And it wasn't just him over exaggerating, or his control freakiness acting up. They were a messy group; Daniel couldn't help but wonder how they even managed to get their tricks to work the way they did.

Jack was, perhaps, the most unorganized person to ever cross the face of the earth. Daniel had gone into his room once –or attempted to, rather, because the piles of dirty clothes lined up so neatly against the door that they blocked it—and once had been one time too many. There were shirts everywhere, pants lying around on the bed –that hadn't been made—underwear nearly falling out the window and Daniel was pretty sure he could discern several candy wrappers _inside _worn out socks. He remembered the stench of the room, how it smelled of unpolished clothing and dry cotton. Daniel wondered if Jack was heading a revolution against the textile industry.

Merritt was a different kind of messy. He usually had the decency to take care of his clothes, but he never had the physical strength to get rid of bottles that used to contain beverages of all sorts. Perhaps it was that he was way too intoxicated after ingesting them what made him physically unable to dispose of a glass bottle every once in a while, or perhaps he really couldn't care less. Or perhaps, in the worst-case scenario, he actually liked it this way. Danny didn't know. And frankly, he didn't want to know. It looked as if Merritt was trying to hold the world record for domino falls using beer bottles.

And Henley, well, Henley was… Henley. She wasn't necessarily messy or dirty; she just gave preference to some sort of order over the other. For instance, she was very organized and strict about her clothing and her makeup. Anything she had to wear, she was strict about. And she was also very careful with her material –most of it was dangerous, and she really didn't need anyone getting their hands on it. But then, other things she was not careful about at all. Like electronic appliances. Danny knew that far too well. More than once he had sat on the sofa while simultaneously sitting on her forgotten phone, or entered the bathroom only to find it nearly burnt down because she had left her hair straightener plugged in.

It drove Daniel beyond crazy. He had avoided it for some days, weeks, months even, knowing he had to take one for the team. But a month was as far as it went. True to his organized self, Daniel made up a schedule by which chores were divided into the four Horsemen, which more or less allowed a safe, habitable environment in the apartment. The other three had posed resistance at first, but they soon realized they'd rather get their chores done than anger Danny, and have to sit through hours of ranting that the sleight of hand was always ready to spill. The only amusing thing about those was how Daniel could walk, shuffle cards in spectacular forms without looking while simultaneously talking at four words per second, non-stop.

And, to everyone's surprise, Daniel's system had been working for quite some time. Merritt and Jack proved to be the more difficult members to get accustomed to it, but eventually did; Henley knew she had to do it for Danny.

Truth is, years ago, back when she was still his assistant and they weren't even filling up small clubs for magic shows, they lived together. It had been a result of Henley's nagging actually, because Daniel wasn't too keen on sharing living space with anyone, much less a girl and much less his assistant. But Henley convinced him, making a really good case with supporting economic evidence that Danny just couldn't ignore. He had become tired of eating cup noodles for the past two weeks, and he figured splitting rent would help them save money for actual food they could ingest. And he soon found out that living with her was a much better experience than he had thought. Which is why it hurt twice as much when she left, and why his new apartment seemed much emptier, but the sleight of hand tried not to think about that too much.

That night, according to Daniel's schedule, it had been his turn to do the laundry. The other three Horsemen always looked forward to Daniel's turn. His obsession for clean, warm, and nice-smelling clothes turned out a bonus for the others, and so laundry always came out better when Daniel was in charge. Except for that very night.

"Danny?" Henley called out from some part of the apartment.

"Yeah?" the sleight of hand replied from his place on the sofa. He was shuffling cards quickly, rehearsing a new technique he had been working on.

The red-haired escapologist came into the young man's field of vision, her face contorted into a frown that the sleight of hand mimicked when he saw her. "Is everything alright?"

"It was your turn to do laundry, right?"

"Yeah."

"So where's my pajama?"

The question took Daniel by surprise.

"I'm sorry?"

"Something happened to my pajama." She stated again, seriously.

"What? Why? Can't you find it? What does it look like?" Daniel asked, folding the cards and putting them together in an organized deck while looking at the girl.

"White cotton shirt, flannel shorts." She described.

"Flannel?" Daniel asked, stuttering.

"Danny please don't tell me you put them in the washing machine." Henley asked, her eyes wide in fear.

"But isn't flannel machine washable?" Daniel started to panic ever so slightly.

"Not all flannel is! God, Danny! If you're going to take the responsibility at least ask me about machine washables!" the escapologist exclaimed.

"Hey, listen, I'm pretty sure I checked all the labels and they were all machine washable." Daniel replied, standing up.

"I bet you threw it in with Jack's black t-shirts too." Henley added sarcastically.

"Was I not supposed to do that?" Daniel asked, offended that she was accusing him of making mistakes.

"Not if you wanted this to be the result!" she said, pulling from behind her back a pair of flannel shorts that seemed to have shrunk to kid size and a blackish shirt. Daniel stared at the clothes and bit his lower lip.

"I'm… sorry?" he ventured.

"What am I supposed to wear now? These are the only ones I have!" she practically screamed.

"How am I supposed to know? I don't take inventory of your closet!"

"Well then go to your room and get me one of yours so that I can wear!"

"What?!" the sleight of hand exclaimed.

"I'm not going to sleep naked, Danny, and you ruined my pajamas, so go get me one of yours." She ordered.

"No, no, listen I'm sorry I messed up but I can't let you wear one of mine…" Daniel began, trailing off.

"Messed up? You screwed up! Big time, Danny! Big time!" the red-haired screamed. Danny began flinching, his fingers tightly grasping the deck of cards in his hands. "Are you really going to be so selfish so as to not lend me some pajamas? Really? They're just pajamas!"

Daniel's breathing quickened. Henley and him hadn't had a discussion like this over such a stupid topic since they had met again, and her tone of voice reminded him too much about their last fight, the fight that had separated them once. He could feel the memories come back to him as if they were running him over, like a speeding car that wouldn't stop. It still haunted him every day, that memory. But now it was as if it was resurfacing full on, as if it was happening again. Danny started to have trouble breathing.

"Danny?" Henley asked, the anger in her tone of voice swiftly changing to concern in a matter of seconds. "Danny, are you alright?"

Daniel tried to answer, but for some reason he couldn't form words, much less sentences. Henley realized in an instant what was happening. Two words she had learned to fear. Panic attack.

She remembered vividly the first night at their apartment, when she moved in for the first time. They had eaten Chinese food they had ordered and were sitting in the living room sofas when Daniel asked if he could tell her something important.

"You have to know, I um…" he stammered. "I used to suffer anxiety and panic attacks." He confessed. Henley could see in his eyes the fear, the nervousness, the embarrassment. "It hasn't happened in years. The rectitude in magic helps me keep things in line, but I thought you should know. You know, just in case." He managed to explain.

Henley nodded silently, firmly, and asked him to tell her more about them, in case she ever had to help him with one. And the sleight of hand, for one of the only nights of vulnerability he ever showed her, told her everything she wanted to know. With her, he had suffered two attacks, one minor, and one rather important. And now, well, it seemed as if she was about to presence the third one.

"Danny," she said calmly, "Listen, look at me." She said, as she approached the young man. The sleight of hand looked at her with a sweaty brow and crystal eyes. "Don't worry, okay?" she soothed.

Her voice was sweet and gently, it had adopted the usual tone she took for these cases. Danny looked at her, shaking and trying to control his breathing, but at this point, he wasn't accomplishing much. She stepped up until she was next to him.

"I'm going to hold your arm a bit, is that okay?" she asked sweetly, her frown completely gone and substituted by a calm smile. Danny tried to nod, and Henley understood. She grabbed his right arm lightly. "Look at me, Danny. I'm here."

She held his gaze for some minutes, hoping the tranquility of her eyes would mimic in his. "It's okay. It's okay, I promise." She soothed him. "I'm here. I know you're scared and in pain. I understand. But I'm here to help. I'm here. I'm always here."

The twitching in his fingers stopped, and he grasped the deck of cards with less force. Henley looked at him with compassionate eyes. Daniel was beginning to breathe with a bit more normality. She knew what she was about to do next was risky; it would either calm him definitely or worsen his condition. But she went for it anyways, too scared for his safety.

She wrapped her arms around him, her right hand playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

"It's okay. I'm here. You're alright. Nothing's going to happen. I'm right here, I'm not leaving." She whispered softly.

And it worked. Daniel started regaining his breath, and stopped shaking. He stopped grasping the deck of cards and instead wrapped his arms around the escape artist. The two remained like this for a while until Daniel was much calmer, still worked up, but calmer.

"Sit down" she told him when they separated, and the sleight of hand sat down on the couch behind them. She sat down next to him, both remaining in silence for some minutes until Daniel calmed down completely, shuffling cards again. Henley was glad she had stopped it before it became worse. She breathed calmly.

"Danny I…" she began, but the sleight of hand cut her off.

"It's fine. I know. Don't worry." He said, offering her a smug smile. She laughed and pushed him lightly, secretly very glad that he was back to his normal self. He dried the sweat from his brow with the side of his sleeve. She raised her left hand and gingerly fixed his hair over his eyebrow. He let out a breathy chuckle and looked down. If it was out of self-consciousness or embarrassment, she didn't know.

"So um…" he began, gulping. "I'm sorry about your pajamas."

She chuckled. "Don't worry about it. I'll just sleep in yours until you buy me new ones."

He laughed at that, glad they were able to joke about it so soon. When she was sure he was alright some minutes later, she returned to the gloomy atmosphere, needing to know whether he had suffered any other attacks before this one lately.

"Have you had any these past years?" she asked him, her tone still sweet and calm, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Once, when you left." He admitted shyly, avoiding her gaze. She felt a pang of guiltiness overwhelm her. "But not anything major."

"I'm sorry." She apologized.

"It's not your fault." He replied, with a breathy chuckle. "Just me."

"It's not your fault either, you know that, right?" she said. He half smiled.

"Isn't that what you told me the first time I told you about this?" he said, trying to sound casual and smug.

"Is it?" she pretended to forget.

"Yeah, it is," he chuckled at the ground. "Still the best thing anyone's ever told me."

She was rendered speechless by his comment. She couldn't, for a second, believe she had ever thought she had been no one important in Daniel Atlas's life. For all she knew, and according to what he had just said, she was the one that saved him. Danny didn't know how to tell her, but partly, it was true.

"Listen, Henley," he said, directing his speech towards her but without looking at her, as if he was too embarrassed to. Daniel Atlas, embarrassed? "I want to say that I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"No, not for this." He said, for the first time making eye contact. She could see the honestly beyond the blue of his eyes. "For every other time I've ever screwed up."

For the second time that night, Henley had nothing to say. J. Daniel Atlas never apologized. There was nothing in the world that deserved his apology, except, perhaps now, her. It's not that she didn't think she deserved the apology; she just never thought she'd get it.

"I know I'm a bit arrogant for show, but then I forget that it's for show and it just… sticks to me." He confessed, showing his vulnerable side. "And I don't really want that to happen anymore. I…" he stammered. "I wanna get better."

Henley's lips parted slightly, as if she would've never believed the words that had just dripped out of his mouth. This was not J. Daniel Atlas speaking. It wasn't even Daniel Atlas. It was Danny. Danny who hides behind arrogance. Danny who likes to think he can take over the world with a smug façade. Danny who wants to get better. Danny who doesn't believe he's good enough. Danny who just suffered a panic attack and blamed it on himself. Just Danny. Her Danny.

"Better?" she spoke finally, after seconds of almost painful silence. "You might not show it, it might not be easy to see… but we know you, Danny._ I_ know you. You're already better." She smiled.

There was a spark in the blue of his eyes, as if fireworks had just lit inside his irises, and before she even noticed, he was attacking her lips with his own. For some reason –passion, longing, desire maybe—she wasn't even surprised. She just kissed him back, returning the same feelings he was showing her. Her hands tangled around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He took her by the waist and brought her closer, until she was practically sitting on his lap. It was urgent, desperate almost, and yet there was a certain tenderness in the way their breaths came out irritated and irregular. There was a beauty in their closed eyes, and their fingers wrote melodies as they trailed each other's bodies.

It wasn't long before they separated, gasping for air, but it took them even less to search for each other's lips again, eager for more. His lips found their way to her jaw and to her neck, trailing gasps, moans and kisses as they searched. It wasn't long before clothes started to become a nuisance, and were quickly disposed of.

"Not here" she managed to gasp out, as Danny continued further down. The young sleight of hand said nothing, but instead returned to her lips and helped her stand up. Clumsily and heatedly, without ever unlocking lips, they made their way to his room, ready to tangle their bodies in the comforting warmth of his bed sheets.

"They're gonna know" he said a while later, as they were laying on his bed, her head on his chest and his arms around her protectively. "They'll figure it out."

"So what?" she asked.

"Nothing, it's just… they're going to torture us." He adverted. Henley groaned. The sleight of hand was right. She rolled to the side slightly, lying besides him, one hand on her forehead.

"Merritt is never going to let it go." She groaned. Danny chuckled, but knew she was right. There was no way the mentalist would let it pass as if nothing had happened. And then an idea struck Henley. "But that doesn't mean we can't have some fun with them."

Daniel looked at her with a smug smile. "What do you have in mind?"

She grinned at him from side to side, their faces merely inches from one another. "Can I borrow one of your pajamas now?"


	7. In Love And War

**Author's Note: **Hello, hello! Oh my God, thank you guys so much for the lovely reviews! Honestly, I am so happy you guys like this so much, and seriously thank you, thank you, thank you so so much for the lovely feedback! You guys are beyond amazing. Now, to address several specific people that have suggested prompts or asked questions:

**ReidMeLikeABook: **Thank you so much! Hopefully this chapter makes up for the Merritt and Jack you wanted? :)

**Guest who asked about future tics: **I don't usually write future fics (in the sense of kids, marriage, etc...) if they aren't implied or talked about in canon (although sometimes I have *stares at Doctor Who fanfic and Castle fanfic I wrote once*) But when I occasionally do (so far twice) it's usually because I'm overwhelmed by an idea or by feelings regarding that, and I write it. So to answer your question, maybe if I receive a good enough prompt and I think I can do it justice, I'll do it. But so far, I haven't planned that out!

**Blue Obsidian Butterfly: **Thank you so much for your kind words! Hopefully this also counts as a bit of Danley fluf? :)

**Guest who asked about Merritt and Jack finding out: **Since these oneshots are not in any chronological order and are sort of independent from one another, I just upload them as I write them and sometimes there is established Danley, others it's implied and others they hook up, I might do a situation like that later on. As you might have guessed (and actually mentioned in your review) it won't be smut, simply because I'm not that kind of writer and I'm not good at writing that, but I'll keep thinking about an idea to make that happen, so look forward to it in the future!

**WestonFollower: **Thanks so much! None of your questions were too personal, so: I'm seventeen years old, actually. Yes, I am absolutely FURIOUS that they didn't kiss in the movie, which, partly, is why I'm writing these oneshots. The movie is one of my favorites, and the only thing I kinda don't like (even though it's so ridiculous it doesn't even count) is that they didn't kiss. Those damn writers... And YES! I am so looking forwards to a sequel! I think it has a lot of potential to be awesome, although to be perfectly honest I'm a bit scared if they decide to add like a fifth Horseman because I'm scared then the chemistry between the four will change, and I'm not sure if i'd like that. And, as with all sequels, I'm kinda scared that maybe it's not too good, or as good as the first one, and it'll end up ruining it (yes I'm looking at you Pirates of the Caribbean 4). But yes, I am SOOO excited for the sequel and I have faith that the writers will do a great job in making it just as awesome as the first one! Am I going to add Dylan and Alma into this? That is a very good question I've been asking myself since I started this fic. Really, it all boils down to if I have an idea that's good enough to write them in, but I definitely think it's a possibility they'll end up in one of these. I've been thinking about doing one with Thanksgiving dinners or Christmas dinner, so if I do, they'll definitely be featured in those. I'm a bit nervous about writing them as characters, but I think I'll be able to. Thank you for saying my writing is perfection, but I personally think it still needs a lot of work, and no, I don't know why I'm so good because I'm not _that _good? And last but not least, I think the Horsemen showing off their talents to each other could work in a situation when they've never met each other, or when they've just met, because I think after a year of working together they already know what each of their talents is, so I'm not quite sure how I could make that work. But again, it all depends on if I get an idea or not, and if I feel it's good enough to write it, so I don't really know. Sorry if that doesn't really answer your question :P

And for the rest of the lovely reviewers, I seriously cannot thank you enough!

About this one shot, I wrote it before I read all these other prompts (blame it on the different time zones), and it's again inspired by a headcanon I read on tumblr that I thought was pretty funny and entertaining, even though I changed some parts of it. I was a bit shocked that the last chapter came out as dark and sad as it did (I wasn't intending on so much pain with the panic attack) so this time around, I decided to write something a bit more 'stupid' if you will, and funnier (I hope it's funny). Again, since these have no chronological order, Danley is established in this one, and Jack and Merritt know about them.

**Summary/Original Headcanon: **_Dylan gave Jack a video gaming console for Christmas, and now the boys have a Friday night video game tournament every week. Henley usually curls up on the couch with them and browses the internet on her laptop, but whenever she chooses to join the game she beats them all in seconds.- submitted by -faithtrustandpixiedust-_

Hope you all like it!

Happy reading!

* * *

**In Love And War**

If there was one thing the Horsemen appreciated about Jack, other than his talent as a magician and other than his personality, was the fact that sometimes he was so much of a young adult that he was allowed the simple pleasures of being a child. Sometimes, those pleasures would end up torturing the other three Horsemen –Daniel and Henley still blamed Merritt for feeding him so many peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that one afternoon that Jack hadn't slept in the next three nights. And other, less frequent and less lucky times, the privileges Jack was given seemed to benefit all of the others.

The most recent of these being a new purchase Jack had acquired with the money the Horsemen had earned from their jaw-dropping shows. It had been a gift Jack had given himself, with the excuse that he had never been able to afford one before. The first thing Merritt thought about was a car. Probably a nice sports car with tainted windows and horsepower that could power a nuclear plant. Which is why Jack surprised everyone when he arrived home one day, carrying a huge, white, cardboard box that seemed heavy. Jack Wilder, number one pickpocket and card-thrower in the world had used his first somewhat official paycheck to buy himself a Play Station.

Henley expected the other Horsemen to laugh at him, even scold him for spending his well-earned money on a video console. She thought Merritt, being a grown man, would understand how unnecessary the expense was, and Daniel, being the arrogant, fun-repelling sleight of hand he was, would think of it as something completely ridiculous and with no value whatsoever. She really couldn't understand what the beauty in a gaming console was; nothing about that electronic appliance fascinated her as much as it seemed to fascinate Jack. She wondered what it was exactly that appealed to him so much.

But to her surprise, when Jack announced he had bought the latest model Play Station with three additional controllers, Merritt and Daniel did not criticize him one bit. Instead, they gathered around the cardboard box like busy bees, curious and anxious, their eyes almost sparkling with excitement at the sight of what they thought was such fantastical beauty. They asked Jack all sorts of technical questions Henley didn't quite understand, and before she even knew it, the three men had busied themselves plugging in cables to the TV and configuring stuff on the screen.

Between the three of them, they had split the cost and had purchased four videogames: an NBA basketball game that had come out that same month, a racing game that was supposed to be the greatest one ever made, Call of Duty, and Assassin's Creed. Henley wasn't quite sure which one was best, but they all seemed to enjoy them to the extreme. They enjoyed them so much, in fact, that they had organized a tiny –or rather important, according to them—tournament every Friday night.

The first Friday of the month, they'd run with racecars and burn pneumatics, speeding cars way beyond what was permitted in any universe. The second Friday of the month, they'd change racetracks for battlefields and fight to death in a bloody game of Call of Duty until their fingers hurt from pressing buttons. The third Friday of the month, the battlefield would turn into a basketball court, and they'd challenge each other to what they always called 'the greatest, most legendary basketball game the world has ever seen'. And finally, on the last Friday of the month, they'd change their basketball players' attire and transform into shadowy assassins roaming medieval streets. Whoever had won the most games out of those four nights was declared the winner, and they got to be chore-free for a month. It was either that, or choosing a punishment for one of the other contestants. It was surprising how things turned out in some of the cases.

And so, while the men were occupied staring at bright screens and pressing random buttons, Henley took the time to display some maturity and took a place on the sofa behind them, sometimes searching the internet and sometimes reading a book that had looked interesting or that Danny had recommended. She scoffed at them and chuckled at them, pretended she was the adult and they were the children, but she secretly enjoyed watching them delighted at the games. She loved the way they'd shout in annoyance when one of them lost, or when they'd laugh maniacally when they had made another one lose, or even playfully fight sometimes because one of them had pulled a dirty move on the other. And even more secretly, she loved to watch Danny –her Danny— utterly in love with something other than magic and himself, smiling and grinning like a child, and for once, forgetting arrogance and smugness and just being young.

One night, on the second Friday of March, the boys were just about to begin their weekly Call of Duty tournament as Henley approached them, carrying a bowl of popcorn and a Coke on the other hand.

"You made popcorn?" Daniel and Jack looked at her from their place sitting on the floor in front of the television. They looked like two jealous three-year-olds for a second.

"I did." She simply replied, heading towards the sofa behind them. She planned on reading a book Danny had recommended, a thousand page long novel –about a magician who always revealed his tricks and yet always surprised his audience— that she had started but hadn't finished. She sat down, popcorn bowl on one side, feet curled up under her and Coke neatly placed on the coffee table in front of her.

"You sure you don't want to try?" Daniel asked her, twisting his head around to look at her. "It's pretty fun when you get into it."

"I would." She said casually. "But I'd be too good for you guys. I'd beat you in under ten seconds and that wouldn't be very nice. It'd threaten your masculinity and all" she said.

Jack let out a loud laugh. "Sure you would." He mocked. Daniel, instead, chuckled nervously, not really knowing if Henley was capable of that or not. If she was, it certainly wouldn't surprise him. She was that kind of a person.

Merritt, who still hadn't arrived, made his way to the living room and sat on the floor next to Danny, who was seated between him and Jack.

"Alright. Are you ready to get crushed and mortally mutilated?" he said. Merritt was always like that at the beginning, confident, cocky, mocking.

"Best of three?" Daniel asked. The three men looked at each other for a second and then they all agreed, "best of five."

Here's the thing, though. Out of the three of them, the best one at most of the games was Jack, followed closely behind by Daniel and not too far behind by Merritt, which meant tournaments were usually quite tied up. Henley figured Jack and Daniel were best because the mobility in their fingers was noticeably better than Merritt's –part of the charm of being sleights of hands, she supposed—but Merritt was incredibly good at reading the other two –something about how their movements were always so predictable—so they were mostly tied.

The Friday before that one, when they had taken part in their weekly race, Daniel had won last minute, making him the champion for that night. If Daniel were to win that second tournament, it would put him in the lead and would facilitate winning for him. And letting J. Daniel Atlas win was something Jack and Merritt would never, ever allow while they were alive.

They set the options of the game and started, Henley's ears filling with the sound of explosions, bombs, artillery being shot and cars being blown over. She was used to it, so zoning out enough to concentrate on her book wasn't a hard task. It became hard, however, when Merritt began talking to her.

"Hey, Henley," he called out.

"Mm-hm?" she replied, without peeling her eyes from her page.

"You sure you don't want to try this?" he asked. "I think it'd be pretty hot to see you massacre Danny boy over here."

"Okay, first of all, avoid referring to Henley's hotness like that and second of all, I would totally crush her." Daniel intervened, his eyes never leaving the screen for one second.

"Oh, I apologize for hitting on your girl in your presence." Merritt added sarcastically, a chuckle visible in his lips. "But allow me to doubt that you'd crush her. Crush _on _her, definitely. But crush her…"

"Of course I'd crush her! Have you seen me? I'm a master at these games."

Henley lifted her eyes from the page for two spit seconds and looked at the men with eyebrows raised. None of the two were looking at her, both too focused on the screen to even try. There was something awfully amusing about how cocky boys got with videogames.

"Oh, fuck!" Jack exclaimed suddenly, as he shook the remote control feverishly. "I set the timer on the bomb I'm carrying. How do I stop this?" he panicked. To everyone's surprise, Henley intervened.

"Triangle, triangle, square, R2, R1" she said simply, hardly taking her eyes off her book. Jack pressed those buttons rapidly, and the bomb stopped.

"I almost blow myself up." Jack sighed.

Daniel paused the game and turned to Henley.

"If you're going to help someone, isn't that someone supposed to be me?" he asked, annoyed.

"All's fair in love and war." She grinned at him. He sent her a mocking look, and un-paused.

"Hey Jack, what's this about activating a bomb on yourself? I thought only Daniel made stupid mistakes." Merritt laughed. Daniel growled, but said nothing. Henley smirked from behind her book.

"You're really having fun insulting me, aren't you?" Daniel asked the mentalist.

"Oh, relax, Danny boy. I'm just doing it because when you get mad, your head gets clouded and it's easier to predict your moves. You're more hot-blooded when you get angry." Merritt explained. Henley smiled at Merritt's courtesy. It wasn't often that he would volunteer his tactic to his opponents, but maybe he was actually sorry about hitting on her and mocking him. Or maybe –and actually what was more likely—Merritt had an entire different strategy planned for that night.

Which proved out to be entirely true. In a matter of several games, Merritt was way in the lead; having killed Jack exactly ten times and Daniel twelve, making him win the first round of their best-of-five games.

"Yo, Danny," Jack called out to the sleight of hand, both focused with furrowed brows at the screen in front of them. "I think if we team up for a while and kill Merritt enough times to even things out, we can still stand a chance to win the next round." The pickpocket offered.

"That seems like an excellent idea to me." Daniel agreed, his speech slowed down due to his intense concentration on the battlefield ahead of him.

"Wow, wow, wow." Merritt said, pausing the game and raising his hands in the air slowly. The other two pairs of eyes focused on him. "That's not fair." He said. Henley looked at them from over her book, suddenly interested in the actions taking place in front of her.

"Well why not?" Daniel asked, his tone of voice bordering condescending.

"That's two against one. This is a one-man territory game. Each of us are individuals here. There's no friendship in war." Merritt said, slightly exaggerating how offended he was.

"Clearly no one's seen Saving Private Ryan or Pearl Harbor." Henley teased him sarcastically.

"We don't need your advice here, punk-rock Barbie." Merritt addressed her, good-intentionally.

"Hey!" Daniel scolded him, with a glare.

"Alright, I'm sorry. But listen, this is not fair."

"Are you meaning to say that it's not fair because clearly Danny and I are better than you and us teaming up would mean your eventual decline from victory?" Jack ventured, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

"Evidently not. I'm just saying you wouldn't like it either if Danny boy and I teamed up against you." Merritt argued.

"Can you please stop calling me Danny boy?" Daniel asked, his request ignored by the other two, who were beginning to heat up.

"Well I wouldn't mind because I'm enough of a good player to beat you guys anyways." Jack replied.

"Wow, wow, wow." Daniel and Merritt jumped at the same time, looking at Jack with a frown.

"That's not true." Daniel said.

"We'd crush you in a matter of seconds." Merritt agreed.

"Sure you would. Come on guys, we all know the best player here is me." Jack replied, chuckling in arrogance.

"Well look who grew some feathers while we weren't looking." Merritt said sarcastically.

As the two Horsemen continued their verbal abuse, consisting mainly of ironic and sarcastic remarks, Daniel got up suddenly and walked towards Henley.

"Hey, Danny, where are you going?" Merritt called out to him, his face the image of 'what the hell, dude?'.

"Relax. I'm not bailing. I just had a sudden craving." Daniel replied, stopping in front of Henley. The escapologist looked at him expectantly, one eyebrow raised.

"Man, don't say it like that in front of us." Jack said, frowning almost in disgust.

"Yeah. Don't start wildly making out in front of us, have some decency." Merritt agreed, his eyes mostly showing entertainment rather than disgust or annoyance. He was finding this very amusing.

"A craving for popcorn." Daniel deadpanned, as the other two let out 'ohs' in understanding, nodding their heads.

"I gotcha." Jack added, nodding slowly. Daniel chuckled and shook his head, turning briefly to grasp a handful of popcorn from Henley's bowl.

"Hey," Henley called him out, more for fun than actually scolding him. "I didn't say you could have any."

"All's fair in love and war." He replied, with a smug grin. Henley fought back a smile as she tried to kick him slightly, only achieving to graze his right leg slightly. He raised his eyebrows at her antics, and got close to her to give her a brief kiss as she smacked him playfully in the arm.

"Please avoid your _lovey-doveyness_ in front of the battlefield." Merritt asked, "It reduces the testosterone levels and makes this entire tournament seem idiotic."

Daniel returned to his seat on the floor in front of the television with a chuckle, eating popcorn occasionally.

"So what are we going to do about teaming up? Fair or not fair?" he asked.

"Not fair." Merritt solemnly stated. Jack sighed exaggeratedly.

"Fine." He said, as he un-paused the game.

Henley decided she was finding their troubles way too amusing to focus back on her book, so with a smug smile she offered,

"You know, we could always split into two teams and see who really is the best at this game."

Jack paused the game and the three Horsemen turned their heads to face her.

"You're serious?" Daniel asked. She smiled.

"Sure. I'm always up for some ass-kicking." She said, standing up from her place on the sofa and making her way towards where Danny was sitting. She plopped down in his crisscrossed legs as the three men looked at her with amused faces. She took a controller and by herself reset the settings for the game so that it would now accept four players.

"So it's me and Danny against Jack and Merritt." She established. Merritt chuckled and said,

"Alright. But don't think we're going to go easy on you for being a girl."

Needless to say, Henley owned the game with a total of two hundred and forty seven kills.


	8. A Little Party Never Killed Nobody

**Author's Note: **Hello, hello! You guys are all so amazing, seriously thank you so much for your lovely comments, I feel so lucky!

**guineapiggie: **Thank you! That is actually also one of my favorite lines! As for your prompt, it's a marvelous idea! (can't believe I didn't think about it) I'll get working on it as soon as I can!

So this chapter is sillier, but I wanted to write it because I was inspired by the song of the same name, and I thought it'd be fun to read! I took the liberty to include numerous references, so like Gaudí I included because he was quite important in Barcelona (which is where I'm from, yay!) and I personally love his work. And also, since Isla Fisher was Myrtle in The Great Gatsby, and The Great Gatsby is my all time favorite book, I included that too! Also, reviewers asked me if I would include Dylan and Alma, and I thought this might be a good moment to include them (even if briefly) and I will also try to include them more in the future. Hope you enjoy it! Note: Language is a bit strong here.

**Summary: **And that's how they discovered Henley Reeves was a very cultured drunk person.

Happy reading!

* * *

**A Little Party Never Killed Nobody**

Henley Reeves was a peculiar woman. She seemed to have an innate talent for surprising people, even people she had known for quite a long time. Her appearance might've shown a certain side of her personality, but she was such a complex personage that there was always more to find out. Sometimes, you had to claw and dig for it; personal things like the reason she'd always wear gloves or why she decided to become an illusionist went beyond her skin and so into her heart that only the few lucky would be granted entrance. Other things, like her favorite movie or the first song she ever listened to, were things she'd freely share any chance she got. But the levels of her complexity were so astounding, it didn't seem strange at all that the Horsemen, having known her only for a year, would constantly be bemused with the escapologist.

Occasionally, and usually out of the blue and without explanation, the Horsemen would learn tidbits of Henley's character. Some things were ridiculously funny, like the fact that she found cat videos hilarious, or that her friends used to call her Hen when she was a child and she hated it because she 'didn't think she looked much like a chicken'. Others were remarkably deep, like how Van Gogh was her favorite painter because she admired the way he could transform so much pain and sorrow and trauma into beauty and magnificence with the simple graze of a brush of paint. And others were just plain weird. Jack remembered the time she had told them ketchup-dipped popcorn was her favorite midnight snack.

And so, in that sense, Daniel Atlas knew he was a privileged person. He knew he was the only Horsemen –and possibly the only person in the world—Henley Reeves had ever opened up to almost completely. And he knew, deep down, that it wasn't just because he had known her for longer than the other two Horsemen. She had told him, for example, that she used to be scared of laboratories. Not because the idea of a lab in itself scared her, but because her mother had died in a chemical accident in a lab when she was ten. And he knew that the reason she avoided scary movies was because she knew she'd never have her mother comfort her through it. And because he had asked her once, in a brief night of vulnerability from both their parts, he knew that she loved Van Gogh because she too wanted to transform her pain into beauty, into magic. But knowing Henley Reeves on these seemingly deep levels was, in reality, only scratching the surface of the person she really was.

But perhaps the most interesting fact the Horsemen had learned about Henley Reeves was something they found out on the night of Merritt's birthday. The oldest Horsemen wasn't a fan of 'celebrating I'm a year closer to dying', as he had so conveniently put it, but the other three knew the real reason Merritt didn't want to celebrate his birthday was because he didn't want to remind himself that he had spent another year running away from his family. Even if his family had demonstrated again and again that they might not mind him being away that much.

But Henley –and here's another fun fact they learned about her that day—was apparently known for cooking the best birthday meals the world had ever seen. And so she convinced Danny and Jack to convince Merritt to throw a small party to celebrate he had gotten a year wiser 'and was slowly approaching the mental maturity of a nine-year-old'. And, even though she hadn't explicitly said it, the two young sleights of hand knew she wanted to indirectly tell Merritt that they were a family now, that they would celebrate his birthdays with him until he got tired of them, and even then they would always sing Happy Birthday until their lungs ran out of air. And because Daniel and Jack had understood that silent claim and had agreed to it, they managed to convince Merritt to organize a small dinner to celebrate his life.

It was, in the strictest sense of the word, indeed a small gathering. In fact, it was the four Horsemen and Dylan and Alma, whom they had decided to invite in honor of completing their initiation into the Eye. It might not have seemed so at the start, but the FBI agent and the Interpol agent had gotten so close to the Horsemen, that they were practically like their parents. They were, in fact, the only type of adult supervision the magicians had, and they loved it.

So on the night of Merritt's birthday, Henley cooked dinner for about ten more people than were actually attending the gathering. And even though not even Jack –who ate as much as three people—had been able to finish the leftover food, everyone sincerely congratulated Henley on her culinary masterpiece. She had even managed to improvise some deserts that had been an absolute success during the dinner.

"I had no idea you could cook," Dylan commented with a smile, reclining back on his chair casually.

"According to Henley, escapologists have to be really good with their hands." Merritt added. Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cleared out his throat. Alma laughed at the poor boy.

"You always make him so uncomfortable, poor Daniel." She said to Merritt, with a smile still painted on her lips.

"It's what I live for." Merritt replied, winking at the showman.

"Yes. Let's hope you don't choke on something today and stop living for anything." Daniel mentioned sarcastically, and practically the entire table erupted in laughter.

The interesting part happened after they had eaten, even after they had sung Happy Birthday to Merritt and after he had refused to make a wish when blowing out his candles. The six friends were sitting at the table, talking casually and drinking. There was a lot of drinking involved. Beers had been set out early in the afternoon, and two bottles of wine had been finished long before the dinner was even over. Champagne to go with the celebratory cake had only been the tip of the iceberg.

And that's how they discovered Henley Reeves was a very cultured drunk person.

When the alcohol levels in her system almost matched her blood levels, the escapologist turned into an incredibly cultured human being. Not that she wasn't cultured before, when she wasn't drunk, but that side of her personality seemed to be accentuated when alcohol had blurred her senses beyond immediate repair. And it was absolutely hilarious.

"You know what I don't get?" she began, at first only talking to Alma, who sat immediately next to her. Her speech was slurred and her eyes were always squinting, as if she had a tough time focusing her vision. Alma chuckled at her drunken state.

"What?" she breathed out in a chuckle.

"Gaudí." Henley said.

"Gaudí?" Alma asked, with eyebrows raised and a smile. "The architect?"

"That's the one!" Henley exclaimed, pointing at some distant point without even looking.

"What don't you get about Gaudí?" The Interpol agent asked, curious and amused as to where this was going to go.

"I mean, the guy was like… a genius. He was like… just… a genius." Henley said, her voice going up and down at times where it wasn't supposed to. "He had all these amazing Art Noveau projects, and he even projected the like… fucking Sagrada Familia man, which they haven't even finished. And he just… had this view you know? Like, this view of nature in architecture and this conception of beauty…" she rambled on, as Alma looked at her with wide eyes and eyebrows raised, a smile always tugging at her lips.

"And?" she urged her on.

"And then he fucking dies, run over by a tram." The escapologist said exasperatedly, as if it was the stupidest thing she had ever heard. "Splat. Just splattered on the ground like nothing." She said, mimicking something with her hands. "He just dies."

Alma couldn't avoid laughing at her drunken state.

"Is that all?" she asked, wondering if that was everything she had to say.

"If only that was all." Henley replied, sighing, as if she was so discontent with the world no one would ever understand.

Soon, she was projecting her ideas to the rest of the table, who listened to her amusedly and couldn't stop laughing.

"And I, for one, personally believe the greatest misinterpreted character in the history of literature is Myrtle in The Great Gatsby." She rambled on a while later, when she had changed the topic of History of Art for Universal Literature. "She is like, the only decent character in that book, which by the way _no one _seems to get, and she DIES!" she exclaimed, as if it was the biggest injustice the world had ever seen. "Gatsby and that crazy ass bitch run her over, like HOW DARE THEM!" she would shout, when she got riled up by the heat of her own argument. "Fucking Fitzgerald was such a troll." Dylan, Alma, Jack, Merritt and Daniel erupted in laughter, Dylan's eyes filled with watery tears, Alma's hand on her stomach to alleviate the pain from laughing so much.

"And oh my God don't even get me started on World War I because that was the greatest competition of 'let's see who's the biggest pussy' in the history of history!" she exclaimed. Daniel couldn't help but laugh at her choice of words. Did he mention she had no censure at all when she was drunk?

"I can't believe we've never seen this side of Henley before." Dylan said, trying to regain his breath from laughter.

"I had no idea she had such strong opinions on culture." Merritt said with a chuckle. "Danny, did you know about this?"

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows slightly, "Yeah," he replied with a sigh. "But it only happened once before, so I didn't know if it was a regular thing for her or a once in a lifetime experience kind of thing."

"Hey, Hen," Jack called out to her with a grin so big his eyes were wrinkled. "What did you think about Titanic?" he asked her. The rest of the friends looked at her expectantly.

"First of all," the escapologist said, "I am not a chicken, so don't call me Hen." She tried to point an accusing finger at Jack, but missed almost completely. The five other attendees chuckled. "And second of all, Leonardo DiCaprio deserves that Oscar if only for the fact that Kate whatever her name is didn't let him onto that chunk of wood where they both obviously fit!" she practically shouted. "Such an injustice…" she murmured. "Although," she said, "I'll tell you what the real injustice is…"

The other five looked at her expectantly, as if she was about to tell them the CIA's most secret plan. She looked at them with squinting eyes, as if wanting to make sure all of them were listening attentively to her, and after a beat, she pressed an index finger down on the table in front of her and said,

"Albert Hall, 1991. David Copperfield says he's going to do this trick…" she began, but before she could continue what was most certainly going to be a bashing rant on most probably one of the Eye's golden members, Daniel stood up and interrupted her.

"Okay!" he shouted. "And that's her cue to leave!" he said, trying to divert the attention from the escapologist to himself.

"Does she just start bashing on people from this point on?" Dylan asked, one eyebrow raised, but with a good-intentioned tone, almost amused.

"Yep." Daniel replied, a bit uncomfortably. "Last time I had to listen to her hate on James Dean, Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Stalin and Justin Timberlake."

"She dissed you too, didn't she?" Merritt asked the showman with a smirk. Daniel looked at him and then at the rest for a split second, considering whether to reply the truth or not, but he figured there was no point in lying about that now.

"Yes." He said with a sigh. "For two hours straight."

The other five laughed.

"And yet, you still screwed it up with her!" Merritt insisted.

"Okay! Time to go!" Daniel said, ignoring Merritt's comment. The other five nodded and stood up, as they helped clean up the table.

Daniel tried to wake Henley, who had fallen asleep with her head on top of her crossed arms on the table. He shook her lightly, and called her name four times before he realized she had hit rock bottom and there was no way to wake her up until, at least, 24 hours had passed. So when he dismissed Dylan and Alma at the door, thanked them for coming and promised to keep in contact soon, he returned to the kitchen, where Jack and Merritt were looking at the sleeping Henley.

"What are we going to do about her?" Jack asked, his cheeks reddened with the heat from the alcohol.

"You wanna take care of this one, Danny, or do you want us to help you?" Merritt asked, his face bearing the same color Jack's was. Daniel figured, out of the four of them, he was currently the one that had ingested less alcohol, so he dismissed the other two.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take her up to my room and I'll take care of her. You two go to sleep."

"You sure?" Merritt asked.

"Yeah, man, we can help." Jack agreed.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it. Have a good night." Daniel assured them.

When the other two had gone to sleep, with practice, Daniel carried Henley in his arms to his room and laid her down on his bed. He took off her boots and the sweater she was wearing, opting not to undress her further just in case. He himself changed into his pajamas and threw himself on the bed next to her, and faded off into sleep.

When Henley woke up the next morning, her head was pounding so hard she could barely hear herself think. She sat up and ran a hand through her hair, noting for the first time that she was in Danny's bed and not her own, but she was still wearing her clothes from last night, which meant something bad had happened. She ran another hand through her hair in an attempt to make herself more presentable as Daniel made his way to the room, a large glass of water in his hand. Quietly, he said,

"Good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Like someone just played every single Queen song all at once inside my head." She offered creatively. Daniel chuckled. She grunted and reached out for the glass of water, which she drank in under two seconds. "Thank you." She said. "What happened last night?"

"You got drunk."

"Really drunk?"

"Cultured drunk." Daniel told her with a small smile. Henley groaned louder.

"Oh, shit." She said, holding her face in her hands. "How bad was it?"

"You expressed your incomprehension of Gaudí's death, advocated for Myrtle from The Great Gatsby while hating on Fitzgerald, said World War I was a pussy competition and dissed Kate Winslet for killing Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic." Daniel told her, with that same smile.

"Ugh." Henley lamented herself.

"I stopped you before you began bashing on David Copperfield." He said with a smile.

"Shit." She said again. "I hope Dylan doesn't take that too seriously and has second thoughts about me joining the Eye."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it." Daniel assured her. "He seemed to love you in your cultured, drunken state. Thought you were pretty funny."

Henley smiled slightly. "I'm sorry you had to take care of me."

"Hey," he said, kissing her forehead. "Good thing about drunk Henley is that she never pukes. As long as that is still the case, I'm happy to do so."

Henley closed her eyes and smiled. She appreciated these moments with Danny where the boy didn't have to act arrogant for anyone. It was just them, being vulnerable and loving it.

"Thanks, Danny." She thanked him again. He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her, hints of his smug façade creeping in. He kissed her forehead again and stood up.

"Take a shower, you'll feel better. I'll meet you in the living room later, there's some plans we have to discuss for our next show." He said, lingering on the doorway for some seconds. "Oh, and I should warn you. I think Merritt recorded you on his phone." Daniel disappeared into the hallway as Henley groaned.

She was never going to live this one down.


	9. The Gift of Opportunism

**Author's Note: **Hello, hello! I cannot stress enough how thankful I am for all of your reviews. Honestly, your comments make me wanna continue writing more and more! I'm back with a new story, this time inspired by a review I got in which **guineapiggie** asked for a chapter in which Merritt and Jack knew Danny and Henley were going out, but instead of telling them, they joked around with them for a while.

And btw, **guineapiggie**: no, of course it's not nerdy that you think that, because, as it so happens to be, you are very right! Actually, Van Gogh was my favorite painter way before I even saw that Doctor Who episode, and I the precise reason why I loved him so much is because he was able to transform pain into utter beauty. But when I saw the Who episode, I thought I couldn't have put it more perfectly than they did, which is why I loved it so much! And, props to you! I hadn't even noticed I had put in a Sherlock reference until you told me! But yeah, Who and Sherlock are two of my favorite shows (along with Castle, that's number one) and I guess it gets to a point where I involuntarily include references without even noticing :P But yeah, feel free to check my Doctor Who and Sherlock fanfiction as well :P! And yeah, I didn't even notice Isla was Myrtle until I looked at her filmography, and I was MINDBLOWN!

**Blue Obsidian Butterfly:** If my chapters always make you happy, let me just say your reviews make me even happier! So thank you so, so much!

**NYSM fan: **Thanks for submitting a prompt! That is such a great idea I will get on it immediately! Look forward to it in the near future!

Also, as a friendly reminder to everyone, please review before following and favoriting!

**Summary: **"They're doing it." He proclaimed once, when Jack and him were sitting on the couches in the living room, Jack unconsciously flipping through channels on the television, and Merritt staring off into some distant point far away. "What?" Jack murmured, eyes glued on the moving screen but without really seeing anything. "Henley and Daniel," Merritt said, focusing his eyes on the youngest Horsemen. "They're doing it."

And now without further ado,

Happy reading!

* * *

**The Gift of Opportunism**

J. Daniel Atlas was a smart man. As much as the other Horsemen hated to admit it –because his ego didn't need any more feeding—, it was a known fact that Daniel was clearly clever, and very keen. He was, not only a very cunning young magician, but also quite intelligent and very cultured –the guy had read more books than the other three illusionists combined—, and had a detailed understanding of politics, history and economics. He lived by his very own first rule of magic: always be the smartest guy in the room.

And always being the smartest guy in the room entitled that he was well aware that his magic was not real. It was, in fact, nothing more than tricks, targeted deception and creativity. Lots of creativity. He was aware that card tricks were accomplished through dexterity, not pixie dust, and that guessing a card someone had picked was nothing more than ingeniously playing with perception and people's attention. And he knew that about the other Horsemen's magic as well even if they never revealed some of their tricks to each other, and even if Merritt had tried to sell more than once that his mentalism was indeed pure magic. The basis on which Daniel had grounded his performances was precisely that: he was well aware that his magic was not, ever, real. But boy, did he wish sometimes that it were.

Because the possibility of real magic not only opened up a lot of scientific fields of inquiry, such as how the ability to fly would pose new theorems about bird bone structure in comparison to human bone structure, or how time travel could potentially equal oblivion in the case that traveling faster than the speed of light signified a rip of monumental scale in the universe, but it would, at the same time, mean that he would potentially be able to become invisible and disappear. Because, disappearing and invisibility seemed like great assets when trying to hide a relationship from two people he lived with. Especially if those two people had been trained, as magicians, to always be in control of the situation and to insanely perceive of everything surrounding them.

So, for all intents and purposes, Danny _really _should've seen this coming a long way. Hiding his romantic relationship with Henley from Merritt and Jack proved to be about as easy as hiding an elephant under a rug. For starters, if the sexual tension between the showman and the escapologist wasn't tense enough when they weren't together, now it had been multiplied by a thousand and thirty three times. And, no matter how good they were at pulling poker faces, no matter how much they tried to act as if nothing had happened, it took Merritt and Jack –precisely Merritt, because he had always been very keen about those two—less than a month to figure them out.

"They're doing it." He proclaimed once, when Jack and him were sitting on the couches in the living room, Jack unconsciously flipping through channels on the television, and Merritt staring off into some distant point far away.

"What?" Jack murmured, eyes glued on the moving screen but without really seeing anything.

"Henley and Daniel," Merritt said, focusing his eyes on the youngest Horsemen. "They're doing it."

The solemnity with which Merritt had spoken made Jack turn his head towards the mentalist alarmed.

"What? Now?" he exclaimed. "They're doing _it, _now?"

"No, not now." The mentalist replied, and the sleigh of hand relaxed slightly. "I'm just saying, in general. They're doing it."

The pickpocket turned off the television and opened his mouth as if to say something, but then rethought it and said, "Just so we're clear, by 'it' you mean…"

"Sex." Merritt finished his sentence. "I mean they're having sex."

Jack nodded slowly, "Right. Isn't that what you've been saying for the past year?"

"No." Merritt said. "Well, yes. But this time, this time I'm certain, Jacky. This time it's real. I can feel it."

"You can feel when two people are having sex?" Jack asked, one eyebrow raised suspiciously.

"I'm a mentalist." Merritt offered, as if it was mind-numbingly clear.

"They're not doing it." Jack said, shaking his head.

"They are, and I'll prove it to you."

"No, thanks." Jack said, immediately flooded with visual images he did not need in his head.

"Not like that." Merritt added. "You'll see."

"What are you going to do?"

"You ever heard of the term cockblock?" Merritt asked the young man.

"Yeh."

"Well then watch out, cause here comes the cockblock master." The mentalist said with a smirk, adjusting his fedora.

"You really shouldn't be proud of calling yourself that." Jack said, with half-closed eyes.

"Calling himself what?" Daniel and Henley appeared into the living room.

"Nothing." The other two Horsemen replied at the same time.

"What are you guys doing?" Henley asked, somewhat suspiciously.

"Oh, you know, just… watching TV." Jack offered, pointing to the screen without looking.

"It's not even on." Daniel pointed out. Jack looked towards it and, upon realizing he had screwed up, improvised.

"That's why it looked weird!" he exclaimed.

And so Merritt McKinney, professional mind reader and 'cockblock master', set as his goal to royally screw up every possible moment of intimacy Henley and Daniel ever got only to prove a point to Jack. And the young illusionist, upon soon realizing that the mentalist was right, only joined in, taking advantage of the innocence of the other half of their group.

It started off really easy and simple, and easily unnoticed by the showman and the escapologist. Usually, they'd throw casual comments at them and watch them react. One time, for example, when they were all watching a movie, Merritt noticed Daniel and Henley had practically snuggled up under a blanket, either of them respecting the other's personal space. So Merritt decided to say,

"Hey, Danny. Don't you think Henley deserves her own personal space?" with a smirk. The escapologist and the sleight of hand looked at the man with blank eyes for a second, until they realized what he meant and Henley shuffled uncomfortably, and Danny coughed.

"Yeah, Danny, get off me, come on. You're making me sweat so snuggled up." Henley said, acting annoyed. It would've been convincing had Merritt and Jack not known what was going on between them.

"Well excuse me for trying to be nice for once." Daniel replied, forcing his arrogant persona out, and moving away from Henley.

"Thank God Merritt said something, I was beginning to wonder how to say it without hurting your feelings." Henley added.

"You're implying he has feelings." Jack decided to interject. Henley looked at him and smiled.

"Right?" she smirked, and they high fived.

But really, Merritt and Jack were laughing to themselves all along. And then, as time progressed and Daniel and Henley still hadn't told them anything, their actions became bolder, more direct. Neither of them wanted to admit it, not to themselves and much less out loud, but the only reason why Merritt and Jack were playing this game was because, in reality, they were mad and frustrated that they hadn't told them about their relationship. After all, they thought they were more than a team, they thought they were friends. That, and it was a lot of fun messing with them.

Another time, they found them in the kitchen, in front of the stove, cooking dinner. While there were, in fact, pots and pans on the stove, and heat could be felt coming from them, at the moment in which they entered the room, it didn't seem like either of them were cooking. In fact, Henley was looking up at Daniel with a somewhat smug smile, but her eyes were almost sparkling, as if they were gateways that expressed how she felt for the young man she was looking at. And Danny had that smug grin of his as he whispered something and got closer to her, their faces only mere inches apart. And that's when Merritt decided it was opportune to cough, and the escapologist and the showman flung apart quicker than magnets of same poles.

"What was going on in here?" Merritt asked.

"Are we interrupting something?" Jack asked. It was hard for either of them to hide their smiles, but they tried their best to pull off poker faces.

"No, no." Daniel quickly replied, almost too quickly. "I was just telling her about a surprise party we had been planning for your birthday, Jack."

"I guess it's not a surprise anymore, though." Henley added, throwing a kitchen rag at the showman, who chuckled as he covered his face with his hands.

Merritt and Jack had to give it to them though, the genuineness with which they acted was remarkable, even for them, who were beyond accustomed to their tricks. They figured that's what made them such good magicians, their ability to lie and act as if they always had the situation under control. Controlling the mind of their audience, that's what it was all about. And even if they always denied it, there was something of mentalism in the others' magic.

But perhaps the boldest move they had made, the one that utterly cost the showman and the escapologist everything they had built up, happened on a night a month and a half after they had started going out. Daniel was sure everyone was asleep when he crawled out of his room and towards Henley's, but the reality was far from that. Merritt and Jack, sneaky as they were, had cooped up in Merritt's room and were patiently waiting by the door until Daniel went into Henley's room. And when he ultimately did, utterly convinced that no one was onto him, the mentalist and the pickpocket waited for a while, until they decided they had given them enough time to catch them in a compromising position, but not one that was excessively compromising.

They tiptoed to Henley's room, which was right besides Jack's, and waited for two seconds before Merritt said,

"Hey Henley, do you know where Danny is? Because," he opened the door as he continued, "we're looking for him but he's not in his room."

Because, obviously, Daniel Atlas was not in his room but in that one, and currently, he was hovering over Henley's body on her bed, as both of them met somewhere in the middle, her hands curled in his hair as they kissed. Passionately.

Merritt's entrance took them by surprise so much, that the couple barely even had time to spring apart, and by the time Jack and Merritt had a clear vision of the room, they weren't kissing, but Daniel was still hovering over Henley's body.

"What is going on in here?" Merritt exclaimed exaggeratedly, as Jack comically stared at them with a surprised look in his eyes.

Daniel, who was supporting his weight on top of Henley with his arms, bowed down his head in resignation.

"You two are doing it?" Merritt and Jack exclaimed, acting way more offended than they actually were.

"Well, apparently not anymore." Henley said, as Daniel got up with a sigh and sat up on the edge of the bed and she sat next to him.

"For how long has this been going on?" Merritt asked, fake hurt still evident in his voice.

"Oh, cut it out." Danny intervened, running a hand through his hair and fixing the tangles Henley had created. "You've known for a month, haven't you?"

Merritt and Jack looked at each other and chuckled.

"Yup." Jack said with a wide smile. Henley grunted and ran her hands through her hair exasperatedly.

"You know, you could've just told us." She grumbled.

"We needed to maintain plausible deniability." Merritt replied.

"Plausible deniability…" Daniel murmured with a chuckle. "Stop talking like you're in the CIA and get out of here."

"Don't you want our blessing?" Merritt asked, his eyes portraying the clear fakeness of his innocence.

"That's really not going to be necessary." Daniel replied with a sigh.

"Oh I think it really is."

The couple sighed until they said, "Fine."

Merritt looked at Jack with a contempt smile and they both said, "You have our blessing."

"Thanks" the other two replied.

"Now, if you're going to go at it like rabbits, excuse Jack and I while we get out of the house. Wouldn't want to make things awkward." Merritt replied, with a mocking bow.

The mentalist and the pickpocket closed the door behind them, but not shortly after, Jack opened it again one last time.

"Oh, and Danny," he said, "If you need… you know… check the pocket of your jeans."

Daniel looked at him with a confused face and patted the outside of his pocket. When he felt a small, square, plastic package that was barely even noticeable inside, he threw a pillow at Jack. If the pickpocket hadn't closed the door in time while chuckling, he would've hit him square in the face.

Those idiots.


	10. Red Velvet Laughter

**Author's Note: **Wow, honestly you guys are beyond words, I can't believe how lucky I am!

**Blue Obsidian Butterfly: **Your review almost made me cry, you precious thing! Honestly, I cannot thank you enough times for all the good things you wrote, I can't believe it. Beyond words, I'm just mind blown really. I can't stress how thankful I am. And, because you had AMAZING prompts, and I was incredibly inspired by one of the ones you suggested and thought it would be fun to write it (it was omg so so fun), here's one you wanted!

**guineappigie: **Bless you, you're so amazing. Honestly, as well, I cannot thank you enough! There are no words to describe how thankful I am! And yes, I totally get you, when I watch something I either obsess over it for weeks, months even or I hate it. There is no in between. And well, for Doctor Who and Sherlock... you can probably guess what side i'm on. (Hint: I AM IN LOVE WITH BOTH OF THEM!)

**NYSM fan: **I do owe you an apology. I know I said i'd write the chapter on Henley's gloves next, but the truth is that when I started writing it (it's halfway done, btw) I realized it was going to be a bit dark, and rather sad, and I decided I wanted to write something a bit more fun first. But I'm in the process of writing it, and it will happen soon! I promise!

And just as a side note, is anyone is interested in knowing what music I was listening to while writing this, I highly recommend the band Els Amics de les Arts (specially the songs: Monsieur Costeau, Jean-Luc, 4-3-3, Louisiana o els camps de cotó and Bed & Breakfast). Yes, yes, I know, a catalan band? What even is catalan? What is this strange music in this strange language I do not comprehend? I know, I know. But they're really good, and they're really funny guys and their music is actually quite good, and quite fun. But anyways, I know most of you won't even listen (which I COMPLETELY understand, no judging or anything), I just wanted to mention it cause I've been obsessing about them for the last few days and they've inspired me a lot. And I'm always curious about what inspires writers, so there you go!

**Summary: **"You're going to help me" Henley began, with a wide smile and a happy tone resembling those of birthday party clowns. "Lord, please don't let her say cupcakes." Daniel, Jack and Merritt murmured. "Make cupcakes!"

Happy reading!

* * *

**Red Velvet Laughter**

Three, white, cloth-like objects were thrown in the faces of the three male Horsemen, who were silently enjoying some downtime one afternoon that had been surprisingly uneventful. These cloths of some sort, Daniel quickly discerned, were actually aprons that someone had –skillfully, too—thrown in their faces as a sign that some sort of assistance was required from them. It had been Henley who, dressed in a similar, pinkish apron had approached them with her hair half up half down and a spatula in her right hand, as she stared at them with her hands on her hips.

"It's raining aprons." Merritt cleverly remarked, as he took the cloth from his face and inspected it.

"Put them on boys!" Henley exclaimed with a wide smile.

"Um… no." the three men replied simultaneously, to their common amusement.

"Excuse me?" Henley muttered, one eyebrow raised in slight rage.

"What are you doing anyways?" Danny asked, throwing the apron slightly to the side.

"Danny, put the apron on." She commanded.

"I'm sorry," the sleight of hand said with a chuckle. "But no."

"J. Daniel Atlas put the apron on."

"Nope."

"Don't make me use your full name, mister." The escapologist threatened. Daniel looked at her with squinting eyes and growled ever so slightly.

Merritt chuckled, "Hey, what's going on?"

"You're going to help me bake." The escapologist noted with a clever smile.

"What?" the three men replied.

"Put the aprons on." She threatened for the last time, pronouncing each word slowly and carefully, the anger in her tone dripping like caramel. The three men looked at each other, shrugged, and sighed.

Knowing they had no other choice, for an angry Henley was something none of them wanted to _ever _see again, the three men stood up and tied their aprons to their bodies somewhat clumsily, and followed the now happy escapologist to the kitchen. She had set out three large, transparent bowls on the wooden kitchen table, surrounded by all sorts of kitchen utensils: spoons, spatulas, knives, forks, whisks… Surrounding this catastrophe of culinary materials were ingredients, and food. The Horsemen distinguished flour, and eggs, and sugar, chocolate, food coloring, and milk, among many other different fixings. And there was one thing the Horsemen noticed immediately. There was an obscene quantity of each of them.

"You're going to help me" Henley began, with a wide smile and a happy tone resembling those of birthday party clowns.

"Lord, please don't let her say cupcakes." Daniel, Jack and Merritt murmured.

"Make cupcakes!"

The three men grunted in annoyance.

"Why are we making cupcakes?" Jack whined.

"Yes, I missed the part where we were birthday party magicians that were also in charge of providing refreshments." Merritt added sarcastically.

Henley swatted them with a kitchen rag, "It's Dylan's birthday, you losers, and Alma asked me if I could make something good for him, since her baking ability is zero and descending."

"But if she asked _you_, what are _we_ here for?" Danny asked. Henley scowled at him and the boy swallowed nervously.

"Because obviously I can't pull all of this off myself, and I need helping hands." She explained. "So! In the interest of helping me, and as a gift from me to you, I'm going to teach you how to make cupcakes!"

"I'm sorry, how is this exactly a gift from you to us?" Merritt asked, sarcasm still present in his voice.

"Well, Merritt," she said, a bit too teacher-like "You might not be a romantic, but a man who can cook, and much better, bake, is a man I'd want to date and marry." She said.

"Wow!" Merritt and Jack exclaimed, looking at Daniel who knew what was coming. "Now _that's_ what I call dropping a hint!" Merritt exclaimed. Henley winked at them.

Daniel sighed and mocked a look towards the mentalist. "Yeah, yeah."

"Okay" Henley said with a determined face. "I need each one of you to take possession of one bowl and follow my instructions very carefully! Understood?"

The three men gathered around the table hesitantly, moving slowly and without much motivation until Henley shouted abuse at them. They found that, surprisingly, baking wasn't as hard as they had imagined it to be. Sure they had messed up about three times in the beginning, and sure they had wasted obscene amounts of flour, sugar and butter between the three of them, but Henley remained positive through the entire experiment, which relaxed the three men quite a lot.

They found that mixing was only hard once you added more than three ingredients, because they would form a thick, consistent paste and melding through it was hard. Spatulas were useless against the power of consistency, Jack soon learned, and interchanged it for a whisk or a wooden spoon like Merritt and Daniel were using.

Their mixing time gave them some downtime to talk, as Henley preheated the oven and went on with more complicated things, like making little figures out of fondant or writing messages on little chocolate tablets with liquid chocolate. She was practically a professional, and the boys wondered where she had learned to bake so well.

"My grandmother owned a bakery until I was fourteen." She explained to them casually as she focused her attention on not misspelling Happy Birthday. "Most days, after school when I didn't have much homework, I'd stop there on my way home and help her out. She taught me everything I had to know."

Daniel noticed that that explained why she had been so good at preparing deserts for Merritt's birthday that one time, and for overall cooking the best birthday meals the world had ever seen. He noticed, too, the way her fingers tenderly curled around the pastry bag that held the melted chocolate so delicately, and that the way she'd frown while concentrating on the task at hand was almost too cute. He couldn't help but involuntarily smile while looking at her.

"How old is he turning, anyways?" Jack asked all of a sudden. The remaining three Horsemen stopped what they were doing and looked at each other with blank expressions.

"Henley?" Merritt and Daniel turned to the escapologist when they realized they had absolutely no idea.

"Um…" she stammered. "I… I don't know…"

The four illusionists looked at each other and then simultaneously erupted in laughter. The ambiance was honeyed, their laughter glazing the atmosphere around them. The air smelled of strawberries, chocolate and vanilla; it tasted like cinnamon and syrup and caramel. They relaxed and enjoyed themselves as they each carried their tasks, talking casually and joking with each other every now and then. Daniel could barely keep his eyes off Henley. He realized soon that despite everything, her smile and her laugh were the sweetest things in that room.

When the boys had finished mixing and had made tiny piles of dough inside little paper containers, Henley set the trays inside the oven and let them rest for a while. About half an hour later, give or take, she took them out of the oven and, fifteen minutes after, when they had been cooled, she instructed the boys to begin another batch, because surely thirty cupcakes were too few.

And that's when it all started, really. And it started the only way it could: with Jack pouring flour in his transparent bowl, and Merritt waltzing behind him. And, of course, because Jack was quite dexterous when it came to magic but not when it came to baking, more than half the flour went on the floor, and the other half fell on Henley's arm, because she just so happened to be next to Jack at the time of the accident.

"I am so sorry!" Jack practically shouted as soon as he noticed, setting the flour sack back on the table and desperately trying to fix the mess he had made with his hands, ultimately failing to do so. "It was Merritt's fault!" he quickly blamed the mentalist.

"Hey!" the oldest one replied, "Was I the one holding the flour?"

Henley's face was half covered by her hair as she shook her arm, and when she looked up, her mouth was opened in an 'o' as if she couldn't believe what had just happened. Jack swallowed hard.

"I am so, so, so, so, so sorry!" he repeated, scared for his life.

"I am going to kill you!" Henley shouted.

"Do you want me to get back at him for ya?" Merritt asked, and before Henley could even reply, he grabbed an egg and smacked it right on Jack's head. The pickpocket turned around faster than lightening, cleaning the sticky substance off his head as the mentalist laughed and ran to hide behind Daniel.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the showman shouted, struggling to get away from the mentalist, who was using him as a shield. "I don't want to get involved in this."

"Get out of the way, Danny" Jack said seriously, as he grabbed a handful of flour and aimed.

"I'm trying to!" Danny shouted, trying to get away from Merritt, but the mentalist was laughing too hard and holding him too hard for him to even be able to move. "Jack, don't shoot!"

But it was too late, because Jack's nerves were on fire, and he threw the handful he had taken towards their direction. Daniel half-ducked in time, and most of the flour struck on the wall behind them, still falling on the showman and the mentalist.

"Jack!" the showman called out, annoyed. He looked at his sweater, which was filled with white dust. "Damn it!"

The mentalist and the showman stood up, only to hear Jack squeal as Henley rubbed his hair with flour that stuck on his hair and created a paste with the already existing egg. Henley had a wide, twisted, wicked, revengeful smile on her face as she rubbed Jack's hair. The pickpocket was fast to react, however, and took the sack of non-granulated sugar and threw it on top of Henley, who screamed as she felt the dusty substance in her hair.

Daniel and Merritt laughed at the girl's reaction, and this time, they weren't in time to duck as she aimed two eggs at them, and they hit the Horsemen square on their torsos. Daniel was shocked for a second, but Merritt just laughed, as if this was the craziest thing he had ever done. It took Danny about three seconds to act offended through a smile, as he, too, took a hold of the flour in his bowl and threw it at the escapologist, who tried to cover herself unsuccessfully. Merritt, on his side, took three more eggs and threw them consecutively at the pickpocket, who tried to duck a few times but still got hit.

Hands covered in a pasty mixture of milk, egg, flour and chocolate, and with a fearless smile, Henley ran towards Danny as the young man tried to run away from her. Between the wooden table and Merritt blocking his way, the escapologist caught up with the sleight of hand and climbed on his back, dirtying his hair with her hands and laughing. The sleight of hand laughed and shouted at her, but ultimately grabbed her legs so she wouldn't fall off him, which made Henley think he wasn't that mad about her ruining his hair as she might've thought.

Soon, the kitchen turned into a battlefield where there were no friendships, as the illusionists hid behind stools and chairs, under tables, and covered themselves with plates or trays. They were all laughing, despite the chaotic state the kitchen was in.

"Danny stop hiding and come out!" Jack called out to the sleight of hand. "I haven't had a proper chance to hit you in the face yet!"

"You wish!" the sleight of hand replied. "I'm not abandoning the protection of my chair!"

"Come on guys! Have some guts!" Henley called out as she stood up, her hands filled with a pasty mixture, ready to hit anything that came her way.

"Listen to the woman!" Merritt shouted, raising a hand over his hiding spot and throwing more flour at the two sleights of hand.

They took that as a direct threat, and both of them stood up. Soon, the four of them were back on their feet; running after each other with hands full of dough or flour, or sugar, or eggs, ready to attack their preys. At one point, Danny took a hold of Henley, immobilizing her as she tried to scream and giggle and shrug her way out of his embrace. But she was useless, and he covered her face with flour as the girl shrieked and shouted abuse at him.

"Danny you idiot!" she shrieked. "No! Stop! I hate you!"

But the laughter in her tone gave away her real feelings. Daniel laughed heartedly at the woman, as she came after him after he had blinded her with flour.

"Don't worry Henley, I got your back." Merritt said, as he tacked Danny using a leveraged arm on his stomach and rubbed a floury hand in the showman's face.

And, among their laughs, and the dusted, flour-filled atmosphere they lived, they made magic out of their smiles and out of their hearts. It felt real, it felt simple and it felt nice. None of them cared about the kitchen, or the fact that they had to clean it up later.

On the wooden table, forgotten, lay thirty red velvet cupcakes.


	11. Red Leather

**Author's Note: **Hi! So sorry I couldn't upload sooner, but with school and all, lately I haven't had time at all to write or upload... I'm so sorry, but I think it's going to be like this for some time, so bear with me if I take too long to upload!

As always, thank you all for your amazing reviews. I cannot tell you how happy they make me, seriously. There are no words to express how grateful I am and how awesome you all are. Seriously. Like. I'm dead serious.

Just to address some specific requests,

**daseyloverwholived: **I don't usually write those kinds of future fics. I think taking the relationship that far with only one movie is something I wouldn't be that good at, because I'm pretty much speculating about what they would be like in a couple, and I don't think I could properly do the proposal justice, and it'd be out of character. Maybe in some future I think of a good idea that seems realistic, but as of right now, I don't think I'll write that scene. I'm sorry! I did like, however, the idea of the others dropping hints to Danny and him not getting them, so maybe I'll work with that!

So I got a request a few chapters ago of a chapter about Henley's gloves, so here it is! Hope it's what you wished for!

**Summary: **The youngest Horseman was really troubled; Daniel hadn't seen him so nervous since the time he had to fake his own death. But the young man was biting his lower lip with such force that Danny was afraid he might bleed, and his eyes were so contorted in pain and nervousness that it looked almost as if he was about to cry. Which, to Daniel Atlas meant only one thing. "You messed with her gloves, didn't you?"

Happy reading!

* * *

**Red Leather**

"Danny, you know Henley."

When Jack sat on the couch next to him, Daniel Atlas knew there was no way he would get some alone time to get some reading done if he stayed in the house. But it was far too late to stand up when the pickpocket had sat down, and so Daniel put down his book, sighed, and looked at the young man without saying a word. Jack's face was troubled, his eyes crinkled and half his lips turned up in an odd smile.

"Yes…?" the sleight of hand replied with a furrowed brow.

"You've probably been in fights with her. You've probably made her angry at some point." The young man continued, the nervousness bottled up inside him showing.

"Yes…" Daniel replied, not quite sure where the conversation was going.

"Probably big fights as well, when she got like, super angry at you."

"Sure."

"Sometimes about seemingly unimportant things, really."

"Okay…"

"And sometimes even when you didn't mean for that thing to have happened at all."

"Jack." Daniel called him out, starting to get tired of the young man beating around the bush.

"Right, sorry." The pickpocket replied, shaking his head slightly. "What I wanted to ask is… How do you deal with her in that situation?"

The youngest Horseman was really troubled; Daniel hadn't seen him so nervous since the time he had to fake his own death. But the young man was biting his lower lip with such force that Danny was afraid he might bleed, and his eyes were so contorted in pain and nervousness that it looked almost as if he was about to cry. Which, to Daniel Atlas meant only one thing.

"You messed with her gloves, didn't you?"

"I didn't mean to!" Jack shouted back almost immediately, sounding like a whiney child that had just been caught doing something terrible. "But I've never been good with, you know, chores and stuff and I didn't mean for it to happen but…" the boy rambled on and on as he stood up from the couch, nervously pacing from one end of the living room to the other.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on." Daniel stood up, frowning. "What did you do?"

Jack looked at the sleight of hand with a sad frown and sighed. His shoulders were slouched and his posture was contorted in such way that it practically spelled out how ashamed he was of whatever it was that he had done to Henley Reeves' precious gloves.

"I didn't know you couldn't iron leather…" Jack barely even mumbled, trying to avoid Daniel's gaze. The sleight of hand went nuts.

"Jack!" he shouted. "You burnt Henley's gloves!? Are you an idiot!? She's going to freak! And then she's going to kill you!"

"Oh, God, I know, I know!" Jack screamed back. "I fucked up, Danny."

"You're damn right you did!"

"But what do I do!? She's going to kill me if she finds out!"

Here's the thing, no one, _no one ever _touched Henley Reeves' gloves other than herself when it wasn't extremely necessary. They were sacred; no one was allowed to use them or mess with them if they valued their continued existence. It had been the first rule Henley had set when they first agreed to live together –the four of them in that tiny New York apartment— and the rest had agreed. It seemed like agreeable terms, nothing too eccentric that they couldn't deal with.

And, of course, there was a reason why that rule was imposed in the first place. It was the same reason why Henley Reeves never took off her gloves unless explicitly necessary. The explanation she gave people when they asked was germs. She'd say she had a thing about germs, that she was germophobic, and that she just simply couldn't stand walking around, touching things without protection. The explanation she gave the Horsemen was that she was germophobic because as a child, she suffered a loss that was very significant. The explanation she gave Danny was, perhaps, the only one that came closest to the truth.

Danny clearly remembered every memory he had shared with her, but this one particularly stood out more than others. It took place before and after one of their shows, back when they were still magician and assistant, back when they were blissful being with each other. Danny had never asked her about it, knowing too well the boundaries of prying, but that day before their show, on her birthday, he gave her a small box wrapped in a bright red ribbon barely without a word. And when Henley opened it, she found two red leather gloves inside. And she loved them so much, she wore them for every show they ever did together.

But it wasn't until after that show when he had given her the gloves, back when they were in their apartment celebrating on a small scale her birthday, that she properly gave him an explanation behind the mystery of her gloves.

"I was ten," she began out of the blue, and Danny just looked at her curiously, paying close attention to what she was saying. "And my mother a chemist doing research in her lab. Out of habit I guess, she was always really neat and organized about everything, cleaning up twice everywhere she went.

"And I took her habits to the extremes because she wouldn't stop bothering me about it." The escapologist explained. "And then when she died in an accident when I was ten, it just got worse. Pathologically worse.

"I started wearing gloves and never taking them off, afraid of whatever it was that had killed my mother, and I vowed I would never let that happen to me. I was too afraid to."

By the time she had finished, Daniel was holding her gloved hand in his. She smiled gratefully at him.

"And that's the reason I got into magic." She confessed. "Because my mom loved to see it, and I wanted to make her proud."

But ever since then, since the day Daniel Atlas discovered why Henley Reeves hid her hands in gloves, he hadn't been able to forget her face as she explained it to him; how her eyes were fighting back brimming tears threatening to fall, how her lips struggled to form a smile and how her forehead was crinkled in signs of pain. He even remembered the faint tremble in her hands as she spoke. And ever since, he vowed to himself that he'd never let anything or anyone take away Henley's gloves.

So when Jack so royally fucked up, Daniel was, needless to say, beyond furious.

"You are in so much trouble right now!" Daniel shouted at Jack, who was still showing him that look of utter hatred towards himself.

"Yes, I thought so." The pickpocket replied sarcastically.

"Now's not the time to be cocky." Daniel deadpanned.

"Right, sorry." Jack said. "What are we gonna do?"

"We? _We?_ What do you mean 'we'? You're the one that screwed up."

"Oh, come on, Danny. You have to help me out on this one!" Jack whined and pleaded.

"Oh, no." Daniel replied, shaking his head convincingly.

"But you know how to deal with her better than I do! She's your girlfriend!" Jack cried. The word sent a small shiver down Daniel's spine. Even now it still felt weird to hear her called that.

Daniel sighed. Jack had a point.

"Please at least tell me they weren't the red ones." Daniel half-pleaded.

"No, they were the black ones that are strapped at the back." Jack replied. Daniel relaxed. "Why? Do the red ones have sentimental value? Are they special?"

"No" Daniel lied "It's just they're harder to find."

But in reality, he relaxed because at least Henley still had the ones he had given her.

"So what do we do?" Jack asked nervously. "She's going to be home any minute now."

"Well, _you_ are going to get out of here and get to the nearest, most expensive store you can find and then _you _with _your _money are going to buy her the most expensive, nice-looking, real-leather gloves you can find. And then _you _are going to give them to her as a present. Avoid telling her you burned the other ones as much as you can." Daniel explained, sitting back down on the couch.

"And then she won't be mad at me?"

"I can't guarantee that, but I can guarantee the beating will be less severe." Daniel replied, cocking his head to the side shortly.

The pickpocket shrugged unknowingly, went to his room briefly and then headed out, black leather jacket on, into the crowded streets of New York City.

Two hours later, Danny knew Jack had come home, but not because he had seen or heard Jack come in, but because Henley strutted inside his room without knocking and with a confused face. In her hand she was holding a Louis Vuitton box that contained a pair of beautiful black leather gloves from the new winter collection.

"Danny, should I take this as a sign that Jack is more committed to our relationship than you are?" she said, her eyebrow furrowed and her face the pure image of confusion. Danny chuckled for a second before he realized what she had said. And when he did, he stood up in his bed and with a serious face said,

"No. What? No!"

"Then what's this?" Henley asked, motioning the box in her hand.

"A present, I suppose."

"Yeah. A three hundred dollar present."

"That's how much these cost!?" Daniel exclaimed, standing up and admiring the gloves.

"Uh, yeah."

"Holy… What are they made of? Unicorn skin?" Daniel exclaimed.

"And Jack just gave them to me, out of the blue." Henley added.

Daniel settled down, pretended not to know and just shrugged. Henley eyed him suspiciously.

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about this, would you?"

Danny pursed his lips innocently and shook hi head, "Nope. Nothing at all."

"You're a terrible liar." Henley smiled at him. He grinned back.

"Maybe, but I'm a pretty great magician."

"Show off." She said. Daniel grinned at her smugly and leaned in for a quick peck before settling back down on his bed. Henley chuckled and shook her head as she made her way out of Daniel's room, closing the door behind her.

A second later however, she opened the door again and, with narrowed eyes, said,

"He burned my black leather gloves, didn't he?"

Daniel stood up with wide eyes. "How did you know?"

"Takes a woman to know." She replied smugly.

"And you're not mad at him?" Daniel asked, bewildered.

"Because he ruined cheap gloves and bought me three hundred dollar ones?" Henley replied amusedly. "I love this kid!" she exclaimed, heading out once again.

"Yeah, well, it was my idea to buy you the gloves!" Daniel shouted, for some reason somewhat jealous about Henley's comment.

But what Danny had failed to notice was that yes, maybe Henley was excited about her new, very expensive leather gloves and yes, maybe she was showing a bit more love than usual towards Jack. But despite that, she was still wearing her bright red leather gloves he had given her.


	12. Sometimes

**Author's Note: **Thank you, thank you, thank you a billion times! You guys are ridiculously awesome!

**guineapiggie:** Thanks so much! I'm trying to think of a situation where I can fit Alma and Dylan soon, because a lot of people are asking about them, so expect to see them soon!

**daseyloverwholived: **Hope this is what you wanted? I tried to include Dylan and Alma, but it didn't work as well. But, as I said to guineapiggie, I'm trying to work them in a future chapter, so expect to see them soon! Hope you like this chapter, I wrote it for your prompt! Hopefully I made it justice? You tell me! :)

**nawrr: **You can ABSOLUTELY request that! Especially because it's a brilliant idea! I'm on it soon, I love the idea and I think there's a lot I can work with in terms of Henley's birthday and all... so expect it soon!

**Blue Obsidian Butterfly:** I can never express just how much I love your reviews, honestly! Thank you so much!

**NYSM fan: **Thank you a trillion times!

**Book girl fan:** Right? I thought I was exaggerating but then I did some research (yes, I actually researched expensive gloves. You guys are getting quality material here) and I found that some could cost even more... It's ridiculous, honestly... a pair of gloves!...

So, here's the new chapter written out of a request (^read about it above^)! And, as I mentioned in previous chapters, I'm incredibly addicted to this awesome band Els Amics de les Arts, and they have a song called A vegades (which is literally 'sometimes' in catalan, so now you know where the title comes from!) and it basically talks about a guy who's incredibly unromantic and just a bit of a mess really and he apologizes for that, and I thought HEY! Danny's like that... this could work... and _voilà_! Also, a lot of the things mentioned in this fic come from the song (look out for The Beatles, and Henley loving Danny but not liking him) so I recommend you guys listen to the song or read a translation?

I don't know, what do I know anyways? Hope you guys like it!

**Summary: **Sometimes, Henley loved Danny but didn't like him at all.

Happy reading!

* * *

**Sometimes**

******(A**** Vegades)**

J. Daniel Atlas was most definitely not a romantic person. It hadn't come as a shock to anyone, the sleight of hand had enough of a hard time trying to be social with people in general to even remember to be romantic. Jack and Merritt wondered if he even knew the term 'romantic'. Sure, maybe the showman knew the term in the context of the artistic movement, 'Romanticism', since he was so cultured and all. But the other two male parts of the Horsemen seriously, honestly doubted that the young man knew about romance in any other way that didn't involve nineteenth century literature, poetry or art.

They almost pitied poor Henley Reeves, who had –voluntarily, nonetheless—been given the honor, privilege and even restless task of dating him. They figured that, having known him for longer, she knew what she was in for when she decided she wanted this, she wanted them. They figured she knew there wasn't much Daniel could accomplish in terms of romance; his head was usually too fixated on shows, or calculating everything, or practicing and learning new tricks to even think about romance. He probably even thought it was a stupid thing to begin with.

And Henley… well, Henley never opinionated on that. She never offered a point of view, and she never so much as complained about Danny's lack of romanticism, feelings, even. Which of course, lead the other two Horsemen to speculate –albeit it was for about four seconds— that perhaps Danny was different in private. It lasted about four seconds precisely because they knew Danny in private. They lived with J. Daniel Atlas and private was not private at all –there's only so much you can keep private when you're sharing an apartment with three other people for so long.

Because, the truth is that Daniel Atlas was _really _not into _anything_ that could be even remotely related to romance, or public displays of affection. _Especially _public displays of affection. The man was about as considerate as a brick. He could try to write a love song, maybe, if he ever got around to a piano, but it'd be awfully uncreative and unoriginal, and everything he'd say would've probably already been said in The Beatles' _Sargent Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. _That is, if Danny even knew about The Beatles. He was often so caught up in his own mind, thinking through everything, that he'd be careless, boring and –dare they say it—untidy and unorganized. Daniel Atlas was, in all possible ways, pretty much just a young man caught up in the world and in his own head. And the others learned to deal with him not apologizing for it.

But honestly, despite his un-romanticness and his lack of emotion sometimes, Henley thought he would've at least remembered today. She certainly did; it wasn't a date that'd be easy to forget, and it wasn't a date she was willing to forget. So that morning, she woke up before him and headed downstairs before the showman had even stirred slightly at her movements. She found in the kitchen, sitting on a stool next to the isle, Merritt scooping up what seemed to be a bowl full of milk. Only milk.

"Morning" Henley greeted with a smile, eyeing him curiously. Merritt looked up at her and smiled charmingly.

"Hey, how was last night?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"As always, none of your business."

"See, that's where you're wrong. Your… how should I put it tactfully… sexual life with Danny is always my business."

Henley rolled her eyes with a smile, but said nothing.

"Woah, okay, what's up with you this morning? That would've usually earned me some sort of slap." Merritt questioned the woman.

"Nothing" she hummed happily.

"Special day?" Merritt asked. She turned around and faced him with a wide smile.

"Special _date_" she pointed.

"Oh" Merritt replied, amused. "Why's that?"

"And why should I tell you?" she played with him.

"It's the date she and Danny met." Jack came in, yawning as he spoke. Henley mocked a look at him, but couldn't avoid smiling.

"Oh, wow, congratulations." Merritt added, as Jack sat heavily on another stool, sleep still evident in his eyes and his body. He sat down motionless for a while, as if he was still way asleep to even be awake.

"What for?" Henley asked, perplexed for a second.

"Dealing with him for so long, taking his shit…" Merritt numbered. "Honestly, we should get you a medal or something."

Henley couldn't avoid laughing hard as Daniel came in the kitchen, his hair splayed randomly in his head and his eyes still a bit drowsy as he rubbed them with his hands. His pajamas, the ones he had leant Henley once, were still too big on his body, and his pants even extended beyond his feet.

"Good morning" he greeted.

"Hey, big boy, how are you?" Merritt greeted enthusiastically.

"Hey" Jack added groggily, his head reclined on the marble isle and without even looking at Danny.

The showman looked confusedly at the mentalist, and chuckled lightly at the pickpocket, and then turned to Henley.

"Hey" he said, his eyebrows shooting up for a split second. She smiled sweetly at him.  
"Hi" she expected him to say something, to recognize the date, or at least make the slightest comment that would signify he had remembered, he had taken it into consideration.

But Daniel Atlas never made such comment.

He just stared at the other three, who were looking at him expectantly –okay, maybe not Jack, yet—with a confused frown.

"Okay…" he let out slowly. "So, quite some work to do today, huh?"

And then he rambled on for an hour about things none of the others cared about, and when he left the kitchen to shower, the other two male Horsemen looked at Henley with worried and slightly surprised faces. The escape artist didn't know why she felt so incredibly betrayed.

Jack and Merritt, being themselves, made it their duty to drop hints to Danny in hopes that he'd eventually realized the mistake he had made. And Henley decided to join in, because she was beginning to get really mad at the showman. It was one thing that he believed Valentine's Day to be a capitalist conspiracy, she could live with that. But it was another, very different thing, that he didn't even remember the day they had met. It had been such an important day for her; she couldn't believe it hadn't been as important for him.

Some of the hint-dropping was ever-so-subtle, almost impossible to detect unless you were looking very closely.

Merritt, for example, cleverly lied about his phone having gone dead.

"Shit, my phone died and now the date and time's all wrong." He complained, pretending to fiddle with his phone while in the living room some time later. "What's the date today, Danny?"

And the showman would respond nonchalantly, without ever taking his eyes off of the newspaper he was reading. For God's sake, the guy was reading the newspaper, with the date on it! And he knew what day it was!

Other times, the hints were less thought-out and less cleverly planned. Jack, for instance, would out of the blue call,

"Oh, man. I think I'm forgetting something today. Maybe about today. Oh my God, what is even going on in my head that I can't remember?"

And Henley wondered how he even had the ability to lie and act and pull off magic tricks as well as he did.

"You know," Merritt began that afternoon, when Danny still hadn't remembered. "I remember the day we met." He began.

"Are you going to get all sentimental? Do you need a tissue?" Danny cleverly retorted, his eyes not peeling off from his phone. He always seemed to be reading or looking at something when he was sitting –or in this case, lying—on the couch.

"One time I try and be touching, and here's how I get repaid. Honestly, it's like you have no heart, Danny boy."

And Henley thought Merritt had no idea how right he was.

"Anyway" the mentalist continued theatrically. "That first day, that first time we met, I had no idea it would go on to" he made a big, circular motion with his hands "this."

Jack and Henley, who were sitting on the floor and on the opposite couch respectively, chuckled lightly. The escapologist was trying hard to disguise the fact that she was hurt, but sometimes trying wasn't enough.

"And I just thought you could be the strangest guys I had ever met. And yet, I already trusted you." Merritt added with a smile. "I can't tell why, but there was just… something. Call it whatever you want… magic, even."

"That was so incredibly cheesy I cannot believe those words even came out of your mouth." Daniel added wittily, cutting.

"Alright, I'll give you that one." Merritt said. Danny raised his eyebrows briefly, as if saying, 'of course I'm right.' "But it's true. I might not have shown it at first, but I almost trusted you instantly. Blindly. And I didn't even know you guys! Isn't that wicked? Did that happen to you too, Danny boy?"

"Well, I had already met Henley years before, so not really." The showman murmured. The other three Horsemen looked at each other, Jack and Merritt's faces bearing the marks of utter bewilderment.

Sometimes, Henley loved Danny but didn't like him at all.

"He really doesn't deserve you" Merritt said later, when Danny had gone to his room for a nap and Jack, Merritt and Henley were in the kitchen, preparing dinner. Henley just smiled sadly at him.

"Seriously, what kind of guy doesn't even remember something like this?" Jack added, his tone begrudging.

"It's fine, boys" she lied. "He's never been one to care much about these things anyways. I should've seen this coming."

"No, it's not fine." Merritt added "The least he can do is be considerate about _some _things! I mean, it's not like you're pressuring him into buying you stuff for every single lover's holiday!"

"I can't believe the guy." Jack said "How he can't appreciate someone like you is beyond me. If we were dating, let me tell you, this would _never, ever _happen."

Henley smiled at them sweetly as they set the table. "You're too nice, boys."

"No." Merritt disagreed. "It's just that your bar is set too low because you have to deal with Daniel. In reality, we're also jerks. We're just less of jerks than Daniel."

Henley hated to admit it on some level, but she thought maybe he was right.

She could deal with him not being a romantic –truth is, she wasn't much of a romantic either, and overly attached couples nauseated her—and she could deal with him being too cool for some things. But this, she thought, was the least he could do to prove to her that yes, in fact, he really did care about her very, very much.

But the day hadn't proven to be exactly what she had expected –nothing like she expected, in fact—and by the time they had finished dinner and had done the dishes, she had lost all hope. Merritt and Jack had gone to their rooms after apologizing –for what, she didn't exactly know, although maybe it was in Danny's place—and she had stayed in the living room for some time, watching TV while Danny finished with the dishes (it was his turn according to his own schedule).

"Oh, good, you're still here." He said, as he turned off the kitchen light and stood in the living room entrance.

"Yup, still here." She replied gracelessly. "Why? Is there a trick you want to go over with me or something? An idea you brilliantly came up with while doing the dishes?" her eyes never left the TV screen as she talked.

"Um… no." he replied, unsure, as he made his way towards the couch were she was sitting. He was a bit nervous; she could tell by the way he had extended the sleeves of his sweater over his knuckles and was clasping them tightly that for some reason he was jittery.

He stood in front of her, staring at her from his vantage point over her and with a frown, asked,

"Are you mad at me?"

"Me? Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?" she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes slightly.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're so impatient that you thought I forgot about today." He replied cleverly, as if it was no big deal.

It took Henley about three seconds to fully grasp the entire meaning of that sentence, but once she did, she stared at Danny with wide eyes.

"What?" she asked. The sleight of hand smiled cockily at her.

"I did not forget, for your information." He said. "And even if I did, do you think I wouldn't have remembered with Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dum dropping monumental hints like that all day?" he added cleverly. Henley huffed lightly. "Come on, give me some credit."

"Well, how would I know if you ignored it all day?" she replied feistily as well, fighting back.

"Excuse me," he said, sounding almost offended. "It's not my fault if you don't take into account your own inaccuracy."

"I'm sorry?" she asked, feisty.

"We met at night, in a club, at around… roughly… 10 PM." He replied. Henley looked at him with wide eyes, and glanced at her watch. It was 10 PM.

Sometimes, she _really, really, really _didn't like him.

"I'm sorry if you jump to conclusions because I'm the only one that cares so much." His comment was dripping with humor and irony and sarcasm, and she shook her head, scolding. But she couldn't fight back the smile that crept to her lips.

"You're an idiot." She said.

"Sure." He added, with a smile. "Now, you know I'm not great at buying presents, and I never know what to get and I'm awfully uncomfortable with it, so I didn't get you anything." He stuttered nervously. She chuckled lightly.

"Danny, you didn't have to…" she began, but he interrupted her.

"But I did get reservations somewhere."

She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

When he took her there, to the place he had made reservations, she noticed it was the same bar where they had met all those years ago. And all she could do was smile at him wide, with watery eyes highlighted by the neon lights of the city that never sleeps at night, and kiss him. Hard.

Sometimes, she _really, really, really _loved him.


	13. Breathless

**Author's Note: **Well hello there! Thank you guys soooooo much for the reviews! Honestly, you'll never know just how grateful I am for them!

As always, to address a few of you with special requests,

**Mal: **Thank you! I liked your idea so much, that I decided to write it out of a burst of inspiration! So there you go!

**Book girl fan: **I also envisioned Danny a bit less genuine, but not with Henley. I think he'd be superficial with others (as you'll see in this chapter) and I wanted him to be 'too cool' but still obviously aware of stuff like that!

**nawrr: **Do you have any idea how much I love your reviews? SO MUCH.

**Blue Obsidian Butterfly**: as always, thank you so much! You are awesome!

**guineapiggie: **Repeat yourself as much as you want! Oh nononono please don't say that! I don't even think I'm that good of a writer, and I'm sure with a lot of practice you'll get better and better! I mean, you should've seen my stuff when I first started... God, no, you shouldn't it's so bad it shall never see the light of day! MUAHAHA! No but seriously, the more you write, the better you become!

So, because I'm a sucker and I take these chapters more seriously than I should, AND because lately I've been interested in French cinema and I just saw Amélie like two days ago, this chapter was born! Someone asked for Danny's first 'I love you' and I'm not gonna lie, I thought it was a fantastic idea but I struggled with it so much. I couldn't envision the moment he'd actually say that, and eventually I figured the only way I could make it in character and believable was if it was quite a sentimental moment, somewhere where either him and Henley were very sensible and things got emotional. So I thought about killing off someone from Henley's family, but I didn't want to make her suffer that much, and so this happened! Hope you guys enjoy it!

**Summary:** He's not good at expressing his feelings. He's the best at showmanship –there's a reason he's the showman of the group—he can manipulate an audience so easily it almost hurts to see. But ask him to talk about what he feels, how he feels, who he feels it for, and catastrophe ensues. Well, not catastrophe, exactly, but close enough.

Happy reading!

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**Breathless**

** (À bout de souffle)**

He's not good at talking about himself. She thinks maybe if he were a musician he'd be better at letting words flow, at expressing things about himself in a more natural, free way. But the only time he's ever even remotely shown a slight interest in music was one that one time when they went to New Orleans and he sat at a piano he found lying around. She remembers the minute-long melody he played even now, months later. She remembers it sounded familiar, like maybe it was from a movie, and she thinks maybe it was _La Valse d'Amélie_, though she's not quite sure. She's sure though, that it made her feel warm and protected, like he was telling her so many things he had kept inside with just a few notes.

He's not good at expressing his feelings. He's the best at showmanship –there's a reason he's the showman of the group—he can manipulate an audience so easily it almost hurts to see. He is practically the most confident performer ever. Put him in front of a billion people, he'll do it. But ask him to talk about what he feels, how he feels, who he feels it for, and catastrophe ensues. Well, not catastrophe, exactly, but close enough.

As far as she knows, and as far as the other Horsemen know, it can go two ways. He can buckle up inside, refuse to say anything at all, stay silent and never talk. He can bottle up his feelings and never express them out loud or even so much as think about them. Either that, or he'll dismiss the topic completely, often ignoring questions and other remarks, and ramble on for hours on another topic. That's another thing he's good at, rambling on for hours. They've tried getting it out of him with alcohol in his system –Merritt's idea, nonetheless—, once he's chugged down two or three or six beers, but they only get to scratch the surface of the person that is J. Daniel Atlas.

She respects that. She recognizes that she's actually quite special, because she's seen him at his weakest. They've shared vulnerable moments together from both their parts, and they've seen each other at their best and at their worst. She's been there for a few of his panic attacks, and for a few of his late-night, after-show confessions before they even met Jack and Merritt. She feels like she should know she's special because she's seen the hidden side of Daniel Atlas. She's seen Danny, the boy behind the smug façade. She _knows _she's special.

And she knows she's special precisely because she knows how hard it is for him to express feelings. Sentiment. He's not a romantic, but he's good at chatting up ladies. She's seen him put the moves on a few young girls at their magic shows, and she knows 10 out of 10 times he's ended up in bed with them. It's not a secret that he was a playboy before they met –even afterwards. He's always had a thing for talking up people he doesn't know, he's good at that, he's confident in that sense. It's opening up that he finds hard. He can chat up random girls for a one-night stand because he doesn't have to be sincere. He can lie about every single thing he says, even what his favorite color is, and he'll still score. The same with magic tricks. He _has _to lie. And that makes it easy for him. Feelings, sentiment, being truthful… well that's a _whole_ other subject.

At first she thought he was just too cool for feelings. He hid under a smug façade because he thought too highly of himself, as if he was the greatest human being to ever be born. They knew he was a showoff, and as far as she was concerned, according to him, being a showoff meant no feelings were allowed, ever. But she knew it was a lie. She had seen him scared, and anxious and nervous, especially during his panic attacks. She knew he was capable of feeling, at least, _something. _He wasn't the Tin Man after all. He had a heart. He had a brain. He was human. He had feelings. Whether he was willing to show them or not was a different concept. It didn't take long for her to figure out the real reason he hid under confidence was actually that he was afraid.

Which is why, knowing him, it didn't bother her that he was so… closed up about his feelings. Which is why, at the same time, it didn't bother her in the least that he hadn't said… well, you know… those words….

And when it happened –if it ever did—she didn't expect it to be all big and fabulous and extravagant. She expected it to be, in the best sense of the word, pure and utter Danny. And she wouldn't have wanted it anyway else.

Of course she herself wasn't quite sure of what it meant that it was 'Danny'. She wasn't sure how he would –if ever—say it. As far as she knew, he had never voluntarily said it with meaning. Perhaps he had let it fall occasionally, under the poignant threat of a dry spell in order to get laid –she knew some girls were harder to get. But never had she actually heard, or heard of, him having said those three little words with the least bit of passion, of feeling, of love.

And it's not like she doubted his feelings, really. She knew, by his actions, that he did actually love her even if sometimes it didn't seem that way. She knew, for example, by the way he'd give her more than half the blanket when they were watching a movie. She knew by the way he'd unconsciously shift in bed until she had most of the room to move around freely. She knew by the way she'd always catch him checking up on her every so often to see if she was okay. She knew by the way he'd lend her jackets and sweatshirts when he knew she was cold, even if she hadn't said so. She knew by the way he always wanted to work with her as partners in magic tricks, and by the way he was always working on impressive tricks for their performances. She knew by the look in his eyes every loving night, and by his peaceful face in the early mornings. And she knew, most of all, by the way he kissed her.

She knew. She had known for some time, for a long time. She didn't really need that verbal reassurance. Except, well, it's always nicer to hear it directly from him, isn't it? But, to be fair, she hadn't said it yet either. So that Saturday night, she doesn't really expect it to be any different. Except, of course…

They've collectively decided –through a vote, nonetheless. If they're something, they're democratic—that they're going to watch a movie. They don't feel like going out –it's been raining outside the past two days—and they decide staying in and doing a French movie marathon is a great idea. Merritt likes to see the beautiful French women in them. Daniel's cultured personality includes a love for good cinematography. Jack thoroughly enjoys, for some reason, hearing other languages and learning from them. Henley is reluctant at first, but eventually agrees. They enjoy French cinema; they all think there's something incredibly magical about them that both captivates and inspires the illusionists in them.

They're halfway through Godard's _Breathless _when she snuggles closer to Daniel under the blanket they're sharing, slightly subconsciously and slightly willingly, out of a certain discomfort that's building up in her throat. He doesn't object, instead, he repositions himself slightly and looks at her a bit curiously. It doesn't take long for them to go back to watching the film, ignoring their change. They watch through the rest of Godard's filmography –or most of it, at least—and go on to Truffaut. They realize maybe they should've started with him, but they don't comment much on their mistake and instead just take on his filmography.

It's still early when they're done, given as they've started this marathon at six pm, and Jack offers _The Apartment _and _Amélie_ as their last two films to complete their French marathon. None of the others oppose, so they watch them.

"Monica Bellucci is beautiful." Merritt opines halfway through. "I mean it, she is literally the perfect woman. Look at her. There is no one more beautiful."

"I know, right?" Jack agrees. "There's nothing wrong with her, she has no defects. Absolutely gorgeous." He says, stuffing his mouth with popcorn he's made in between films.

"Honestly if I were to marry a woman like that I'd never let her go. God bless her." Merritt comments.

Henley chuckles lightly, even if she's secretly having a bit of a hard time sitting through the movies, and looks up at Danny ever so slightly. She doesn't want him to comment, she doesn't want him to defend her or anything. She just looks at him involuntarily, out of reflexes. He notices and looks at her, and after a while, maybe understanding what she's trying to not say, he shrugs. She thinks it's better than nothing.

By the time they finish _Amélie,_ it's way too late for them to stay up for a minute more, so the boys clean up the movies and DVDs and laptops and television, and Henley deals with pillows and sofas and blankets. When Jack and Merritt are done with their pile of DVDs, they excuse themselves to sleep. Taking advantage of their time alone, Henley sits on the couch and stares at the floor, as if suddenly she's been overwhelmed by feelings she had been holding in these hours. Daniel's holding a DVD case with his thumb and index finger, and he's bouncing it slightly on his other hand, somewhat nervously.

"Are you tired?" he asks her, unsure. She shakes her head slowly, still looking at the ground. He knows when she doesn't answer with words it's a bad signal. He takes two steps closer to her. "Are you feeling sick?"

Again, she shakes her head but says nothing. He's beginning to worry now.

"Henley?"

And that's when her shoulders start shaking and he realizes. She's crying.

He practically throws the DVD case on the coffee table besides him and rushes to her side, holding her by the shoulders gently.

"Hey, hey, hey," he shushes, forcing her to look up. She does. Her eyes are reddened and wet, full of tears stained of eyeliner and blue eye shadow. The contours of her eyes are puffy, and there's tear marks on the sides of her face. She looks scared, and desolate. He hates it.

She breaks down strained sobs, and that's when he really starts to worry. What is it he's said that's hurt her so much? What is it he's done? How could he have screwed up so badly having done so little? Why does he end up ruining everything, always?

"Whatever I've done, or said, I am so sorry." He says. It earns a slight, shaky chuckle from her and he breathes with a bit more tranquility. She shakes her head.

"No, no" she says, wiping her tears slightly but to no effect, for more tears keep rushing down. "It wasn't you. It's just… me. I'm… I'm stupid."

"Hey," he says, turning her body slightly to face him, pulling her face up so he can see her. His eyes are sincere, caring, worried, and it makes her feel slightly better inside. "What's wrong?"

She tries to breathe deep twice, and he gives her time without pressuring her. She attempts it, and tries her best, and she settles herself slightly even though she's still crying.

"It's nothing really, just that…" she struggles. "My mom used to love Godard and Truffaut."

And he feels like a royal idiot for the first time in many years. He should've known that's what it was about. He should've paid more attention to the signs… should've noticed.

"I remember we used to snuggle up in the couch," she says, breathing deep a few more times. Tears are still running down her cheeks, but she's not sobbing. He thinks it's a good sign. "And we'd watch all of their movies, and laugh and cry and have a great time." She explains. He listens, because that's all he can do. He's never been good at consoling.

"And doing this… I loved it, but it just made me remember her and…" she struggles. "Danny, she was the only one that supported… this" she says, moving her hands up in a showy fashion. He knows she means illusion, magic, escapology. Their world. Their life. "And she's gone."

Those words are like a trigger, and she breaks down and sobs lightly again. He pulls her closer into his chest, hugging her tightly but softly, rubbing her back soothingly. He's not great at comforting, and dealing with feelings, but he feels inside an instant, sudden urge to cease her tears. He's sure now, there's nothing he hates more than seeing her crying like that.

"I started to think nobody cared about me, Danny." She muffles into his chest, but it's clear enough that he understands it, and it sends a pang in his chest. It's as if her own words were a dagger that went through his clothes and skin. "My mother, the only one that fully supported me is gone. My father kicked me out. My sister doesn't want to talk to me. My family ignores my existence." She sobs. "I just started thinking nobody even cared anymore."

He knows what it's like, feeling that way. He was never the popular kid in school; others picked on him all the time. He got into magic as a way to escape from them, as a way to become better than them and to get his mind off of it. His parents thought it was a great hobby, but a ridiculous job. When he moved out, he had that same feeling of loneliness, and solitude, and not belonging anywhere. He knew the sting and the pain that came with that. He didn't want her to feel that, ever.

He pulls her away from his chest slightly so she can look at him in the eyes, so she can verify that he's being sincere, that he's saying the truth. That, for once, he means it.

He holds her face between his hands carefully and she looks him in the eyes.

"You know I love you, right?" he whispers, struggling slightly and stuttering a bit. It takes her a second to filter it, to fully process what he's said. She's too involved in her own emotional turmoil to even expect that from him at this moment. And yet, he's said it. And he's said it when she needed to hear it the most. And the sincerity in his eyes is just… breathtaking.

She smiles between her tears softly, and she tries to muffle and restrain the sob she feels coming out. She pulls his face closer and rests her forehead against his. She chuckles and says,

"I love you too" and it sounds teary and shivery and muffled, but he knows she means it just as much. He kisses her forehead and rests his forehead against hers again.

"Can you please stop crying?" he asks, pleading softly. He doesn't want to see her crying, ever. He hates it with a fervent passion. And even more, he hates not being able to do anything about it.

She nods her head slowly and snuffles a couple times. She separates from him and dries her tears with her hands. When she does, she breathes deep twice and he looks at her until she's calm.

When she settles down, and stops crying, he smiles at her and stands up, offering out his hand to her.

"Let's go to sleep."

She takes it and they go to his room. He makes sure to kiss her goodnight better than any other night. They both know he's not going to be able to say it many times, so he lets his kisses speak for him. She understands him perfectly and kisses back.

She can't believe she felt like no one cared. He cares. He cares so much.


	14. The Art of Disappearing

**Author's Note: **Who has the best followers/readers/reviewers ever? I DOOO! I can't believe you guys honestly, your comments always make my day in so many ways you wouldn't even believe it! I'd like to apologise if lately I've been uploading less frequently, but with school and all I barely have any time to write. Not to mention, studying burns my creative neurones and I run out of ideas... So please propose prompts and ideas if any of you have some!

So this turned out to be very sad and kind of heartbreaking (sorry). But I think it kind of fits, because in the last chapter you had Danny helping and consoling Henley, and in this case it's the other way around. Also, Danny might be a bit out of character in this one (I think maybe, anyways) so if it is, I apologize! I just really wanted to write a scene in which he got to interact with a child (because I do think he'd be one to do so in this way) and it came out this way. So bear with me if it's a little bit bad, okay?

And people who gave me suggestions before, do not fret! You shall not worry, I've written them all down and I am waiting for inspiration to strike me so that I can put your ideas into writing!

**Summary: ** "Don't laugh, but I think we're running out of imagination." The sentence, as innocent and simple as it was, struck the magicians. They almost fell back in their seats as if the bus's inertia had overpowered them, and they sat there, contemplating the profoundness of the words that had just come out of that boy's mouth.

Happy reading!

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**The Art of Disappearing**

Over the years, Henley Reeves had learned that getting to know Daniel Atlas was a long, arduous process. The truth is that, for reasons still unknown to her, the only way she'd ever get a slight glimpse of the person that he truly was was through tiny details, anecdotes almost, that she herself had to claw and dig for. Some of these things she'd observe and notice casually, one day at a magic show, another day in her room while laying in bed. Other things, she asked him about, and sometimes —in the eventual case that he was feeling talkative and she was lucky— he'd answer her. Other things, she had to deduce. And others were wild speculation and mere guesses.

So she had learned to observe just about anything Daniel Atlas did whenever he was doing something. She figured it was the only way to _really_ understand all of the thoughts that were going through in his mind, which were quite a few. And even though she knew many things no one else —in the world probably— knew about him, there were many more things to know about him that she needed to know and he hadn't told her. So she observed. And from her observations, she drew conclusions and asked detailed questions he couldn't refuse to answer.

And so through these skilled observations, trained through the reading of more detective and mystery novels she'd like to admit, she found out quite a lot of details about the showman. Things she had never even realized before.

For example, she noted once, that no matter where he was, and no matter where he was going, he would always have a deck of cards ready to use. Whether he kept it in his coat's pocket, or in his jeans' pockets, or in his messenger bag, the man always had a —what seemed like brand new and fresh— deck of cards ready to use. She had seen once, as well, that he had a tendency to listen to music _only _when he was relaxed. She had asked, and he had explained that he'd only tolerate music —which used up all of his brain power to filter, he had read once— when he was completely at peace and at ease, relaxing. Otherwise, he said, it'd alter his nerves and get him anxious, and that was never something to look forward to.

Other times, she noted more intimate stuff that only she'd get to see. For example, she observed once that he had a scar running along half his right shoulder. She didn't ask how it ever got to tarnish his skin, and he never explained voluntarily. And she figured, even as she trailed her fingers around it, if he didn't tell her he had a good reason not to. And one other time, she realized he had more nightmares than he'd like to admit. And a whole lot of them seemed to involve him suffering physical pain and running away. He ran away a lot.

So, admittedly, there was a whole side to Danny she knew nothing about. But, of course, there was a whole side of Danny _no one _knew about. Being his friend, being in a relationship with him was like blindly following a treasure map with no assured treasure at the end of the journey. But she was a fighter, an adventurer, she lived for the thrill of the chase and the unknown. She was going to get to the heart of J. Daniel Atlas. After all, she was the only one that knew his real name. And that had to count for something.

And part of the thrill of deepening her understanding of the sleight of hand was that she'd be surprised every single day. She was constantly amazed at the depths of his heart, and of his personality, and few were the times in which she wasn't the least bit surprised by the sleight of hand. It was safe to say, for once, she enjoyed the excitement of not knowing, if only because knowing, discovering, felt so rewarding after all. She decided there was nothing better than that the righteous feeling of getting to know someone better. Or, what was even better, thinking something about someone only to learn she was awfully wrong. And this, with Daniel Atlas, happened a lot.

It happened that day as they were heading back home. They had gone out shopping and for a walk, popping by some music stores and some boutiques on their way, and had decided to take the bus back to the apartment because Henley's feet were killing her and there was no way Danny was going to carry her thirteen blocks. They had been lucky enough to book a spot as soon as they got on —an unusual occurrence for a New York City bus— and they were comfortably talking about irrelevant matters they both thought were interesting. In front of them, sitting facing them, was a young boy —not older than ten— carrying a big, red and blue Spiderman backpack on his back and holding a big book opened more or less halfway through in his hands in front of him.

Pausing briefly from their conversation, taking a minute in silence to simply exist, Henley glanced at the little boy in front of them. There was no one sitting to his side, so it seemed clear the boy was probably heading home alone from school. There was something endearing about the young man, she thought. Maybe it was the short, brown hair and how it seemed to fit perfectly with his green eyes, which darted with remarkable quickness from side to side of the pages in front of him. His furrowed brow was adorable as he seemed to struggle to understand a word imprinted on the pages he was so carefully studying. Henley, awestruck by the sweet sight of the Spiderman bag-carrying young man, turned slightly towards Danny to nudge him to look at the boy. But before she had a chance to, when she turned around she found Danny staring at the boy with a glint in his eyes —dare she say it, of proudness even— and a wide, slightly smug smile she had never seen plastered on his face before.

"Hey" Danny said, nodding slowly towards the kid. The aforementioned youngster looked up with the same contorted expression.

"What?" he said. Henley noted his voice was high-pitched, but not so in an annoying manner.

"You okay? You seemed troubled." Danny said. Henley observed the interaction bemusedly. She would've never pegged Danny for a kids person.

"I'm a little frustrated." the kid said, and Henley thought for a split second —don't ask her why, she just did— that the kid must've read a lot of books for being so young.

"And why's that?" Danny chuckled at him.

The kid sighed, closed his book and looked at the ceiling as if exasperated. "Life is really hard." he said.

The two illusionists couldn't avoid the chuckle that invaded them.

"Welcome to the real world, kid." Danny said.

"Thanks, I guess?" the boy replied, not quite understanding Danny's tone. The sleight of hand chuckled.

"So why is it so hard on you?"

The boy looked at him suspiciously, as if debating with himself whether to trust the young man asking him questions on the bus or not. He must've decided to, because he said,

"Don't laugh, but I think we're running out of imagination."

The sentence, as innocent and simple as it was, struck the magicians. They almost fell back in their seats as if the bus's inertia had overpowered them, and they sat there, contemplating the profoundness of the words that had just come out of that boy's mouth.

"What do you mean?" Henley asked sweetly.

"Like, all my friends," the boy began explaining, adopting the casual postures someone older than him might. "All they want to do is play with their computers, and no one wants to play with me anymore. Outside. In the real world."

Henley and Daniel looked at the boy with compassionate eyes, understanding, for once, the refusal of technology in new eras.

"All I wanted was to play pirates." the boy said. "I saw this really cool documentary the other day about pirates, but when I told my friends they said they didn't care, and that the game on their computers was way better."

Bemused by the boy, the two illusionists urged him to continue with their looks.

"And what if everyone else is like that, you know? What if no one ever wants to play pirates with me ever again because they all prefer a computer game?" he asked, his eyes rimmed with tears that threatened to fall. Upon seeing that, it took Danny less that five seconds to react. It was as if the boy's tear-threatened eyes had provoked in him an intense desire to cheer him up; as if the boy's pain had become his, and he had made it his life's goal to sweep that pain away from him as soon as possible.

"Oh, I don't think that" Danny said, with a wide smile. The boy looked up at him with hopeful, wet eyes.

"Really? Why not?"

"What's your name?" Danny asked.

"Max." the boy replied.

"Nice to meet you Max, I'm Daniel. This is Henley." Danny introduced them, as Henley bowed her head theatrically. Max smiled at her. "And I know that's never going to happen."

"And why not?"

"Because, Max, if there is one thing that real life has that the computer life doesn't," Danny said, as he inched closer towards the boy, as if about to tell him the secret to life. Instead, when he was close enough, he reached out his hand towards the boy's ear and seemingly extracted from it a five dollar bill. "Is magic." he finished, showing the boy the money.

Max's sad, frustrated eyes turned into ones gleaming with hope the minute he witnessed the trick in front of his eyes. Henley smiled, it was quite possible the oldest trick in the book, and yet the boy's smile was barely even containable in his own cheeks. He smiled and chuckled, exclaimed gleefully as he took the dollar bill from Danny's fingers and looked at him. Danny winked at him.

"You're magic?!" the kid exclaimed. Danny raised his eyebrows suggestively, and from seemingly out of nowhere produced a deck of cards spread wide open in his right hand. The boy's amusement just grew larger and larger.

Daniel pulled a few easy, but nice-looking tricks and let Max keep the deck afterwards, when he was sure that the boy's smile wouldn't rub off for the rest of the week. He signed it, and encouraged him to bring magic to the world through that magical deck of cards. Danny's natural arrogance when performing never once showed, instead replaced by soothing, magical words of sweetness. When he got off the bus, the little boy was still grasping Danny's deck tightly in his hands, with a wide smile on his face that seemed to never fade.

Taking the encounter as advantage, Henley casually commented,

"Never pegged you for a kids person."

And the truth came out much, much, more easily than she could've ever expected it to.

"When I was a kid," Danny began, "I wasn't exactly the most popular kid in school." Henley knew that, he had mentioned it once or twice before. "But when I say I wasn't the most popular kid, I mean nobody liked me. And I'm not exaggerating."

Henley's eyes softened, but she didn't say anything, urging with her silence for him to go on. He did.

"I'm still not sure why, to this day, nobody really liked me." he explained, the truthfulness and the rawness in his eyes scaring her for a second. "But it was very hard. The scar, on my right shoulder? A kid in sixth grade slit open my shoulder with a metal baseball bat."

Henley took his hand in hers, fruit of the mental image she had formed in her mind, and he squished it slightly, as if to say he was okay.

"So I did the only thing I could." Danny confessed. "I read a book about a man who could disappear whenever he wanted to, and I realized if I too could disappear, all my problems at school would go away."

Henley fought through tears, wanting to avoid crying in a public space and putting him in an already more emotionally raw place than he already was. But hearing the confessions of ten year old Danny Atlas about wanting to disappear tugged at her heart in ways nothing ever had.

"I wanted to disappear so bad, Henley." he chuckled lightly. "So I researched this 'magic' thing I had read about, and… well… the rest is history I suppose."

They remained silent for the rest of the ride until they got home, Henley having no idea what to say that could possibly make the showman feel better. She had never personally experienced bullying of such lengths, but she had seen how it could affect people. And she realised how lucky he was, how lucky she was, that he hadn't spiralled down into fear. Who knows what could've happened then. She didn't want to know. A world without Daniel Atlas? She couldn't even imagine it. Even when she had left, when they had separated to pursue different career paths, she still knew, somewhere deep in her heart, that J. Daniel Atlas was still in there, fooling the world.

They got to the entrance hall of the apartment when Danny commented,

"I thought about other ways to disappear," he confessed. "I was never brave enough to do it."

Henley's heart literally sank. That was him, right there, J. Daniel Atlas, number one magician in the freaking world, accepting that once he had tried to… She couldn't even think it. The anguish that overtook her felt like misery, and she couldn't avoid thinking he had felt like that too, and for so long.

So she stood in front of him and took his hands in hers. "I would've never forgiven you if you'd done it."

"You wouldn't have met me." he said cleverly.

"Don't try and be smart now." she said with a smile. He smirked, looking down in her eyes. His pupils were sincere, like he was trying to mask a feeling of vulnerability but failing miserably.

And then he whispered, "Sometimes the other world seemed nicer than this one."

And before either of them could break down, she gathered up the courage to exclaim,

"J. Daniel Atlas, how dare you! If there is one thing this world has that the other one doesn't," she barked, as she mimicked his act before and reached behind his ear, pulling a coin from behind his ear. "If there is one thing that's worth living in this world for, if there is one thing you and I love more than anything else" she said, as she showed him the coin and he smiled, shaking his head. "Is magic."

And he kissed her, because he knew she was right. He was right. They were both right.


	15. Run Boy Run

**Author's Note: **Oh my God! You guys just get more and more awesome with every review! I can't believe how lucky I am that you all are liking this so much! Thank you seven trillion times, honestly!

**guineapiggie: **you got it! Date it is! I'll start working on that as soon as possible! Wohooo!

**nawrr: **wow, I never expected someone to want more angst! But sure! I like to include a lot of happy chapters as well, but I'll include angst when I can!

**there was a Guest who had a really bad day: **I'm both heartbroken and excited about your review. Heartbroken because no matter what, you don't deserve to be so sad and you most definitely don't deserve bad days. Excited, well, because I was able to make your day better. Honestly, if that's all I ever get from these stories, I consider myself more than lucky. I don't think there's anything better than making someone happy. So I'm very glad, and I hope you either stop having bad days or that at least I can be there with my stories to help you through them!

**Moonlightdrifter: **What can I even say? I mean, I think it's enough of a privilege that you logged in just to leave a review! I have to say your review actually just made my entire month, because I can't believe someone as professional as you (you got a book published for crying out loud! HOW AWESOME IS THAT!) actually thinks so highly of my writing. I actually think I still have a long way to go, and that I'm not nearly as good as you say, but you can't fathom how glad I am to hear everything you said, especially because now I have more and more energy to keep writing and become better. So honestly, thank you so much for your super kind words, and for everything you said. It's stuff like this that inspires me and makes me become better!

And after addressing you amazing reviewers, here's a bit about this chapter. So I've been listening to the same band for a month, but the other day I remembered this was this really good song on the Now You See Me soundtrack called Run Boy Run by Woodkid, and I remembered I was obsessed with it for a long time after I first saw the movie. If you haven't heard of the song before, it plays in the trailer and during the car chase on the bridge, and it's got this very strong beat and fast tempo which absolutely fits the movie and the characters. So inspired by the title, the lyrics, the melodies and basically just my own thoughts, this happened! It's a little slower, but I wanted to do a more reflective chapter just on their characters in general.

**Summary: **Whether they know it or not, and whether they want to admit it or not, they've been running their entire lives. Whether they're running to something or from something, they just run. And they keep running, until someone or something tells them to stop.

Happy reading!

* * *

**Run Boy Run**

Whether they know it or not, and whether they want to admit it or not, they've been running their entire lives. Whether it's metaphorically speaking or literally speaking, it is the one thing the four of them have in common. Running is a topic they deal with every day; running is what keeps them going. They greet running like a dear friend they haven't seen in years. Whether they're running to something or from something, they just run. And they keep running, until someone or something tells them to stop.

So far, they've only found reasons to keep going. They've yet to come across someone that tells them they've run enough; something to stop them physically from running until the end of their days. There are no reasons that suffice; no reason is ever good enough, strong enough to keep them from doing what they do best. Instead, they find other incentives, other goals to pursue, other people that tell them to keep running, that running is the only way they will ever get somewhere. So they run. And they don't stop.

For some of them, it started a long time ago. Take Daniel as an example. He was running way before any of them probably, even if he wasn't quite aware of it. Always running from school, from bullies, from mean kids that picked on him and stole his money (however clichéd that was), from fears. He ran from school assignments and studying, from university and college and responsibilities and his parents. And he ran and ran and ran until he was far away from all of that that caused him trouble. Until he thought he had found a place where he was safe. Except safe was a very relative term. Running was simple. Running was direct, empiric. Running was always safe.

Others started very young, like Jack. He hadn't run voluntarily. Maybe none of them did, actually, but he was forced to. Forced to run away from a home he had lost, from parents that never were, from friendships that were never formed. He ran away from everything he knew, everything he had, until he had nothing and everything simultaneously. He ran until he found something to keep him running. And he ran. He ran until there was nothing he'd rather do. Running was fun. Running was fierce. Running was always safe.

One of them was pushed into running. Henley, she ran because she had no other choice. She ran from a place that didn't deserve her, a place where she wasn't appreciated. She ran from despair, and sadness and hatred. She ran from disappointed looks and reproachable actions. She ran from unapologetic comments and distastefully picked conundrums. She ran, and she ran, and she never stopped, even with those high heels she was so keen on wearing. Running was easy. Running was happiness. Running was refuge. Running was always safe.

And the other ran out of misery. When there was nothing left, when everything had been taken from him, when everything was gone and he had no one left to care for or trust, Merritt ran. He ran against his will —he was never a huge fan of physical movement— but he ran until he no longer saw that place he had once called home. He ran for miles, days, years. He ran from all of that that had betrayed him, and yet he still felt empty. He felt disappointing. He felt like there was nothing left when all hope was lost, and he felt like he had lost hope. And he kept running through borders until he discovered running wasn't all that bad. Running was healthy. Running was fundamental. Running was always safe.

So when they found each other, or rather they were forced together by someone who asked them to keep running, they agreed. Even if this time they were running from something very specific, very concise, very precise. Even if this time they were running from the law. It felt like they had had years of experience, of practice. Like running was something they were used to by now. Running was something they'd never get tired of doing. They never asked themselves how long they planned to keep running, perhaps out of fear of the answer or fear of not having one. They took it for granted, as if all of them knew they were destined to run.

"So here's the plan," Daniel said, pointing at a large blueprint map they had attained of the theatre in New Orleans. "Right after we finish the show, after everyone checks their bank balance, we head to the back of the stage. We attach the zip lines to our harnesses and we're pulled up. Everyone clear?"

"Clear" Jack replied, as Merritt and Henley nodded slowly, studying the blueprint in front of them.

"And what do we do after?" the escapologist asked. "You know they FBI'll be after us, how do we get out?"

"There's a back door here," Daniel said, pointing at an opening imprinted on the blueprint. "And there's a path that leads from backstage to the door. I think we can make it there in under two minutes, give or take."

"Alright, seems like a plan." Merritt acknowledged, nodding convinced.

"And then what?" Henley asked, looking at Danny straight in the eyes.

"Then we run."

And they had done so for the majority of their shows. Do the show, pull off the tricks, make it rain money, rob a multibillionaire, disappear into thin air, frame a magic debunker, then run. Run until you leave the magic behind. And that's precisely what they had done. And they had ran until they got to the carrousel. And then, for the first time in years, they stopped running.

"It's weird, isn't it?" she asked them once, when they were spending some quiet time in the living room. They had settled down almost automatically, without even commenting on anything, and they had established that quiet mood almost by default.

"What is?" Jack answered, pulling his eyes away from the phone he was fidgeting with.

"That we're not… running." she said. "We're just… here. Living normally."

"Is that bad?" he asked.

"It's not bad." she replied, a bit unconvinced. "It's just… well, weird."

The other two Horsemen, who were both too submerged in their reading to have paid attention to the redhead until that moment, looked up from their respective looks with a slight confused frown.

"I for one was never a big fan of the entire 'running' part" Merritt lied. Perhaps he wasn't a fan of it, perhaps he wouldn't have chosen to do it, but he definitely knew it was vital to him, to them.

"But still, don't you think it's a strange feeling?" Henley debated.

"What? That feeling of peace?" Daniel smirked at her. She swatted his arm lightly and he chuckled.

"Don't act like you don't miss the thrill of the chase."

"She has a point," Jack added. "I mean, I don't know you guys, but I've been running for as long as I can remember. And I don't mean just the literal…"

"We know what you mean" Danny interrupted him, and the remaining three Horsemen wondered if he was just being his pompous self or if he was actually scared of hearing that admittance out loud.

"I'm just saying, I agree with Henley."

"Thanks, Jack" she smiled at him. The pickpocket smiled back, and Daniel shifted a bit uncomfortably at the eye contact between the two. Henley could barely contain the chuckle when she realized.

"Okay, you're all getting very emotional tonight and I'm feeling the urge to throw up a little bit," Merritt said, sighing, pretending to be uncomfortable in that way only he knew, "I'll leave you all to your philosophical questions." he said, standing up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" Daniel asked.

"To take a nap." Merritt replied, wide-eyed. "Honestly! It's like we can't do anything without being controlled by you!"

"That's not how I meant it…." Daniel sighed, rolling his eyes. Merritt chuckled.

"I'm just messing with ya, Danny boy." and he disappeared into his bedroom.

"Alright, I'm gonna go get some air." Jack said, mimicking Merritt and heading for his room to get his jacket and then out the apartment. Henley cursed for a second that she had disturbed the atmosphere they had created, but her thoughts were dismissed rapidly when Daniel talked to her.

"Do you really miss running that much?"

She looked him straight in the eyes, without expecting his to be so concerned, sincere, apologetic. It shocked her for a second. She thought maybe he was scared that she didn't like staying, and by staying he meant staying with him. She thought maybe he was scared he wasn't good enough for her, like what he had to offer wasn't something worthy of her. So instead of answering, she offered another question.

"Don't you?"

And there was silence.

But the truth is that it didn't take long for them to run again. And in some ways, they felt more comfortable running than staying still. And every time they'd run, they'd think of that first time they ran together. That first time where, for once, they didn't have to do it alone. For once, they had others that understood them, others that felt the same way. Others that had to run because of the same reasons, for the same goal. For once, they had people who understood them, people who didn't question them.

And that one night, as they ran out of the New Orleans theatre having almost completed their initiation, they realised running had never been a problem. Running was never something they ran from. As they felt their feet hit the ground in an unstable rapid pace, as Henley's heels clicked on concrete, as they felt the wind on their cheeks, as they fought through the crowd of Mardy Gras celebrators, they realised running was safe. They realised running felt like home more than anywhere else. And so they ran, with smiles plastered on their faces.

They ran until they lost track of why they were running.


	16. Noble Art (Of Arguing)

**Author's Note: **Thank you all for your reviews! As always, as soon as I read them I instantly become happier, and I can't tell you how much they mean to me!

So, I got a lot of prompts from you guys (yay prompts!) and I apologize for taking so long in uploading a new chapter, but with school work and all lately I have no time. Anyways, since I got a lot of prompts, I tried to fulfill more than one at a time, and this ended up happening.

So someone asked for more Merritt and more of the four Horsemen together, so here you have it! Also, someone asked for a scene where the Horsemen watch Frozen, and so I didn't exactly do that, to be precise, but I did include it somehow, so I hope you don't mind much :P And, last but not least, I read another headcanon on tumblr about Jack liking cartoons, and I included that as well. So this is basically just a mixture of a bunch of ideas put together to form this. Also, I wanted to explore the idea of the Horsemen arguing, because they HAVE to fight at one point or the other, and since a lot of people said they like angst... This isn't angst exactly, per say, but, well, you'll see...

Hopefully you all like it!

**Summary**: When Danny got home that afternoon after shopping for a brand new deck of cards and some other materials he had found himself in need of, the first thing he heard were screams. Never a good sign.

Happy reading!

* * *

**Noble Art (Of Arguing) **

When Danny got home that afternoon after shopping for a brand new deck of cards and some other materials he had found himself in need of, the first thing he heard were screams. Never a good sign.

Screaming was, by definition, a symbol of anger, bad vibes and fighting. Especially fighting. But it took a special meaning when applied to the Horsemen; they either never fought in four months, or fought every single day for two weeks, there was no in between. And usually, their scream-full weeks started on an unusual, seemingly unimportant day, when one of them got fed up with the other three and then all hell broke loose. And usually, what was even worse, their fights snowballed from something really, really random and minimal to something huge. But of course their fights were only a testament of how well they knew each other and how comfortable they were with each other, for weeks later they'd be acting all friendly again, as if nothing had happened.

So when Danny opened the door to the apartment and heard shouts perforating the walls, doors, windows and more specifically, his ears, he sighed and rolled his eyes, knowing what mayhem was coming. He cursed whoever it was that had begun the fight —he was right in the middle of developing new tricks, and he could really use silence to concentrate. So when he closed the door and entered the living room and saw that Henley was on her feet, screaming at Merritt, who was standing on the opposite side of the room, he sighed again and closed his eyes for a split second.

The duration, severity, and volume of their fights depended on who had started it and who had participated in it. Objectively speaking, —and contrary to popular belief, he was very good at that when he had to be— his fights with Henley were, by far, the worst. It didn't quite matter who started it as long as either of them participated after the initiation. Their fights were long, exhaustive and loud, very loud. They would begin because of a comment, or an action, as minimal as it could seem, and then it would escalate until they were reproaching to each other things they had said and done years ago. That was the worst part of their fights. They had known each other for longer than they had known the other Horsemen, which meant they had more things to throw at each other, more reasons to be mad at each other, more reasons to stay mad for longer. And sometimes, they'd stay mad at each other for months. Of course, the make-up was better and better each time.

But after Danny and Henley's fights, the worst ones were Henley and Merritt's. The thing was, Danny and Henley were both prideful spirits. They would outlive everyone and everything trying to have the last word, the last say in a fight. They would very rarely accept mistakes and errors, and would often deflect the topic if they didn't have a good comeback. But that was nothing compared to the pride battles that occurred between Henley and Merritt. Both prideful animals practically, Henley voiced her opinions with the strong femininity of a fierce panther, and Merritt defended his values with the strength of the lion. Watching them fight was like watching two titans crash over and over again with scientific arguments between Newton and Einstein. It was incomparable to anything Jack and Danny had ever seen.

And, of course, this time it was no different. As soon as he made his way into the living room, dropped the bags he was carrying and hung his head, Jack was at his side in a second.

"Danny, help me out." he pleaded with the innocence of a child. Danny, head still hung, sighed exasperatedly.

"Not now. Not again. Not right at this moment." he cursed, as the escapologist and the mind reader shouted abuse at each other. Danny couldn't make out what they were arguing about, but it sure was heated. "How long have they been going at it?"

Jack glanced at his wristwatch. "About fifteen minutes."

Danny grunted loudly.

"So we haven't even hit critical point yet."

"No"

'Critical point' was that point in the fight were it seemed they had run out of arguments and they had left a brief millisecond of silence so any of the others could intervene and cease the shouting. In Danny and Henley's fights, critical point occurred a half an hour or so into the fight. In Henley and Merritt's, it happened about forty-five minutes in.

"But I don't think we can wait that long, Danny." Jack almost murmured, nervous. "They're more heated up than usual."

"So? What was the root of their fight?" Danny asked.

Jack swallowed, "You're going to kill me."

Danny closed his eyes and sighed, "Please don't tell me this is about some stupid cartoon."

Jack gulped.

It was a known fact that for some reason, Jack Wilder thoroughly enjoyed cartoons. Daniel thought it had something to do with the loss of innocence and the lack of parenthood he had suffered through his childhood; that he was trying to relive that innocence through the watching of innocent programs. He thought maybe he was trying to retrieve something he had never possessed from the beginning. Regardless of the reason, Daniel thought it was an annoying and childish habit he should let go of. Henley thought it was very cute. Merritt thought Jack was a bit weird, but he never made more than a single comment about it.

"They wanted to watch a movie, and I offered this new Disney one that came out like a month ago about these two sisters…" Jack began, but Danny cut him off, too annoyed already to continue listening to the plotline of what he was sure was going to be a horrid cartoon movie.

"I don't care." he merely stated, not surprising the pickpocket besides him. "Get to the point."

"Sure. So Henley was getting teary-eyed…"

"Oh no."

"Oh yeah. And so Merritt realized and started poking her, and well, one thing led to the other…" Jack explained, motioning with his arm towards the two fighting in front of them. It was the strangest thing, Merritt and Henley were usually quite friendly, and during their fights they turned into deadly enemies. Jack noticed it was the same between Henley and Danny, and he wondered if love had a direct opposite relationship with hate.

"Why, _why_ would Merritt think it was a good idea to poke her about crying?" Danny sighed.

If there was one thing Henley never, ever, ever, _ever, _did, it was crying in public. Sure, okay, she had cried in front of Danny plenty of times. But Danny wasn't public. Danny was _Danny_. She could cry in front of Danny. But her own pride, her own strength, her own will forbid her from crying in public. She had told herself after her family had kicked her out that she was going to remain strong through everything, that she was never going to let anyone know of her weaknesses as long as she could do something to avoid it. And so, even in front of the Horsemen, whom she had learned to trust and love, she didn't cry in public. It was a personal accomplishment of hers, a pride point. And anyone who would say different would be the victim of, well, exactly what Merritt was being a victim of right now. Except Merritt knew how to fight back.

"I mean, at this point I'm starting to think maybe he wanted to start the fight to blow off some steam." Jack said, looking at the two magicians in front of them.

"If that's the case, I am going to kill him." Danny replied, his eyes fixed on the man and woman shouting.

"So what do we do?" Jack asked. "You're the judge in these cases."

Daniel Atlas sighed again. He knew it was true. Even with Henley in the mix, and even given their relationship, he was the only one they trusted to rule in a fight. He was awfully objective for moments like that.

So he breathed in, braced himself, and got closer to the pair. Jack watched from a distance.

He knew better than to kiss or even get close to Henley when she was this fired up, so instead he tried to stand in between them at a prudent distance, waving his arms around and shouting at them to cease fire. It took them some minutes, but finally the other two gave in, their chests rising and falling rapidly out of breath, their eyes like lightening.

"Enough, okay? Enough!" Danny shouted as the other two died down. "What's the matter with you guys? Jesus! I leave the house for two minutes and all hell breaks loose!"

"Tell that to your girlfriend the feral cat over here." Merritt accused.

"What did you just call me?!" Henley jumped, Danny racing to her to stop her before she threw herself on top of Merritt.

"I said, enough! Both of you!" he shouted, severe. The escapologist backed away. "Honestly, you are grown ass people and you're fighting because of that stupid movie?!"

"Frozen." Jack clarified.

"Whatever!" Danny shouted. "I cannot believe you two."

There was silence for some seconds, and then, simultaneously, the shouting started again, this time directed at Danny. Both parts were trying to explain what had happened, both still too angry to settle down. Danny sighed audibly.

"Stop!" he shouted, and the other two fell silent again. "One at a time, _please_!" he stressed.

"Henley's mad because I saw her crying." Merritt exclaimed, a hint of sarcasm present in his tone.

"I was not, how dare you!" Henley shouted back.

"Henley!" Daniel scolded.

"He's lying, and he started pressuring me about something I did not do!" the escapologist fought back.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Merritt replied.

"Said the mentalist!" she fought back. Merritt gasped in mock hurt.

"I'm sorry, _honey_, but it's okay to cry. It's perfectly human, no need to get this angry." Merritt condescendingly argued. This time, it was Henley's turn to gasp. "Listen, we all know you're really not as tough as you want to make us think, and you hide under that tough façade, but hey! Here's the good part, if you cry, it means you're not a machine!"

"Oh," Henley shouted, with an exasperated chuckle. "Oh, look who's talking, the Macho Alfa."

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm the one who's hiding? How about you? Huh? Yeah, I saw you shedding a tear or two during _Rain Man_!" Henley shouted.

Merritt gasped, "How dare you! That is a fucking excellent movie and that ending was just cruel!"

"Okay, enough!" Danny intervened, too fed up to deal with them arguing about crying with cinematography. "This was a stupid fight, nobody is right, and can we just, _please, _let it go?"

It took some seconds of silence for Jack to start humming a melody, something Danny thought came out of a children's lullaby, and it was a second before he sang 'let it go, let it go' along with it. And that got Merritt and Henley all fired up again, shouting all kinds of things.

"Jack!" Daniel scolded him, shouting.

"Sorry!" the pickpocket apologized. "I couldn't help it."

Danny sighed for the hundredth time that day.

"Okay, what is it going to take for you to stop shouting?" Danny screamed. The fighters looked at him.

"He has to admit he was wrong and I wasn't crying." Henley said, arms crossed over her chest.

"She has to admit she isn't as tough as she looks." Merritt said, mimicking her posture.

"Oh," Henley chuckled. "I'm _never _going to say that."

"Fine! Then neither am I!" Merritt agreed.

And then both parts turned to the sleight of hand, "Danny!" asking for help.

"Oh my God," Danny said, "Okay. If the other agrees and says that, you will end this fight?"

"Yes" they both replied.

"For sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, if you two aren't mature enough to figure this out, here's my rule" Danny said, both parties looking expectantly at him. It wasn't a system they had planned or agreed on, but it always seemed to work. Whatever Danny ruled was final, end of. "If you don't agree to the terms and conditions, I will explain, _in excruciating detail_, your single most embarrassing moment."

Both illusionists opened their mouth to protest.

"Ah, ah, ah." Danny shut them up before they even began. "You know I know your most embarrassing stories."

"That's unfair!" Henley said.

Danny raised his eyebrows at her, "Are you complaining? Cause a certain day at a bar three years ago is coming to mind very vividly…"

Henley sighed, fired up. "Fine, fine!"

Danny looked at Merritt, waiting for his answer. The mind reader looked at Danny and Henley, doubting, and then finally said, "Fine."

"Go ahead then."

"I'm sorry, Henley, I admit you weren't crying." Merritt apologized.

"And I'm sorry, and I admit I'm not as tough as I make it look." Henley mimicked.

"Perfect. See how easy that was?" Danny said. "Now can we please forget this incident, and go back to whatever it was we were doing before this childish feud began? Thank you."

Henley and Merritt turned towards the sleight of hand, eyebrows raised in undignified surprised.

"Childish?" they both said, jaws clenched.

Danny looked at them nonchalantly, "Yeah. Oh, come on, you have to agree this was a stupid, immature fight?"

"I'm sorry," Merritt fake-chuckled. "Are you calling us immature?"

Danny chuckled, "Yeah. I mean, it was very stupid."

"Oh?" Henley said. "Is that so?"

And the three of them began a shouting contest that lasted two hours, forty three minutes and ninety two seconds, according to Jack's watch.


End file.
